Seven Wonders
by LadyMercy
Summary: Ch.38 UPAuron's memories of his life in Zanarkand and in game. The trials and rewards of the fayth. The origins of the celestial weapons. Complete & total rewrite of previously posted story. AuronxOC
1. Missing You

Author's Note: This is the beginning of a major re-write of a story that was originally posted starting in January, 2004. I tried to post the re-write over the original story, but as I re-wrote, the story got richer, deeper and longer, and I realized it was going to be much too confusing if I continued that way. So, the re-write will be posted as a new story, which in many ways it is. If you enjoyed the story the first time, I hope you will enjoy even more this time. If you missed it, I think you are in for a hell of a ride. I hope you agree.

* * *

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. I wish. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters, who begin to appear in Chapter Three.

* * *

Half asleep, he rolled over and his right hand automatically began to search beside him, but when his shoulder landed on a sharp rock, he came fully awake in an instant. "What the hell…" he muttered, as he sat up and looked around. His remaining eye saw the star-bright sky, undimmed by any city's lights, reflected on the ocean before him.

His arms locked around his knee, he studied the stars above for a sign, and found it, high in the heavens. A constellation he had not seen in over ten years, because the Phoenix only rose from its ashes in the southern night sky on Spira. He was home. He picked up one of the sharp rocks that surrounded him, and fisted his bare left hand around it until it drew blood. He was home, and he was alone.

_Where is the boy? _he finally wondered. _We left together. Where is he? Where am I?_ The man stood, and slowly turned around, attempting to get more of a sense of his current location. The sea, a narrow, rocky shore, a towering cliff. No lights, no village in sight, not even a cluster of huts, no sign of any habitation, human or otherwise. No indication of another washed-up traveler like himself. But it was difficult to tell, either there was no moon this night, or it had already set. He decided it would be useless to search the shore in the dark, and possibly dangerous as well, considering the rocks. It would be better to build a fire, and wait for the dawn. If the boy were nearby, the fire would draw him. In the morning, he would have a better chance of figuring out where on Spira he had come ashore.

Gathering driftwood, building a fire, kept him occupied for a brief space. Once those tasks were done, the man had nothing to fill the empty hours until the dawn but to sit and watch the flames. He had little need for sleep. He tried to plan his next moves, to discipline his mind to plot out the path of what he needed to do next, but he was too distracted. Disgusted with himself, he removed his coat and spread it on a rock beside the flames to dry as he smoothed a square of sandy ground beside the fire. If he could not calm his mind, he would discipline his body instead. He began working through the first moves of the kata, the martial arts exercises he had practiced nearly every day of his life, and so he passed the night. The boy did not come. _He must have washed ashore elsewhere_, the man thought.

The sun rose over the ocean, informing him that the cliffs were to the west. He watched the birds wheel overhead, diving for their nests in the cliff face. _I know these birds. I have seen them before._ _There is something special about them, what is it?_ The man remained still for so long, the gulls ceased noticing him, and flew closer. At last, he was able to see them clearly. The black, hooked beak and black wingtips were distinctive. These rock-nesting gulls only lived in one place, the cliffs below the Mi'ihen Highroad, north of Luca.

Once he realized where he was, the man knew that he had been the victim of one of his old friend's cruel jokes. _Damn you, Jecht_, the man thought bitterly, _after ten years, couldn't you even put me near a decent road I could reach_?

He knew the Mi'ihen Highroad was in the hills beyond the sheer rock face, but without climbing gear, _and a partner, agonizing thought, banish it! _the only possible result would be a fast trip to the Farplane. He considered this for a long moment, and was tempted, but he could not leave with his promises unfulfilled. Since he could not climb, he would have to walk.

He began the long trek south to Luca, where he hoped to hear what had transpired in the ten years he had been absent, and perhaps, find news of the boy. This was not a well-traveled area. _Hell, it isn't even a path, just a rocky coastline barely wide enough to pass at high tide in some places_. The fiends in this area would surely not prove difficult, and the minor challenge of traveling alone would keep his mind focused on the journey in front of him.

It took him a little over a week of rough hiking to reach Luca, less than half the time it would have taken a normal man. Being unsent, he had less need for food or sleep than the living, but he drove himself almost past his limits on this journey, using exhaustion and deprivation to keep some inner demon at bay.

He arrived the day before the Blitzball tournament celebrating Maester Mika's fifty years as Maester. This, he had learned in the first café he found after he hit town. _I wish I were surprised that Mika is still around. At least my timing is good. There will be a team coming in from Besaid in the morning. If Braska's daughter has turned summoner, she will probably be on the ship as well. If not, I will get some news of her. The tournament will also draw the boy_, he thought to himself. _I need only wait. Wait, and think of the task ahead_.

As he left the café, the patrons at the tables began whispering to one another, "Did you see who just left? Wasn't that Sir Auron? I thought he was dead. Where's he been the last ten years? Are you sure that was him?"

Auron rented a room at a small inn in an out-of-the-way neighborhood, a place he remembered from his journey with Jecht and Braska. He paid extra for the innkeeper's silence, as he had no desire to be disturbed. He had caught some rather curious glances from passers by in the Luca crowds. _I am here to fulfill my promises to my friends, and then to rest. Nothing more_.

In the morning, Auron sat in a back corner of the small common room of the Inn, and watched the pre-game show on the sphere, hidden from the other patrons both by the shadows and his high collar and dark glasses. The blitz announcers were dismissive of the Besaid team and its chances in the tournament, but he was unable to keep the relief from his face when the boy, Tidus, appeared on the sphere with his recently adopted teammates. _Tidus was the only link with…NO…do not think of it._ Auron turned his face away from the sphere, his expression behind his glasses clouded and dark.

His attention turned back to the sphere when he heard the beginning of an interview with "Summoner Yuna" from the island of Besaid. _So she has followed in Braska's footsteps, and isn't that a Ronso standing behind her? Has Kimahri stayed with her all this time? I chose better than I knew_, he mused.

Auron timed his arrival in the stadium to coincide with the end of the Aurochs' first game in the tournament, since it was not certain that the Aurochs would be playing a second game. He had chosen not to watch the first game. In Zanarkand, he had seen the boy play enough Blitzball to last several lifetimes. And yet, he stood in the stands and watched as Tidus led the Aurochs during the first three fourths of the Championship game. In the past five years, he had learned to take a father's pride in the boy's accomplishments. Alone, he allowed himself to savor the bittersweet emotion, because he knew that when they saw each other after the game, Tidus was going to be angry as hell with him for a very long time.

Two completely impossible events occurred almost simultaneously. The hapless, usually hopeless, Besaid Aurochs won the Championship. And the Luca Stadium was completely infested with fiends. In later years, Blitz aficionados would be hard pressed to say which event had seemed more fantastic at the time. In the present, the fans' cheering had turned to hysteric screaming, and the crowds began fleeing in panic. Auron found himself face to face with a vouivre, and met it with a sardonic smile, just before he sliced it in two.

He hefted his katana to his shoulder and let a small, tight smile twist his lips behind his collar as he pivoted to face the owners of the two voices that had just shouted his name. One, he had recognized even before he turned. Tidus, the boy he had helped to raise; seventeen, bleached-blond hair, blue eyes, and not quite fully-grown, either physically or emotionally. _The other was called…Wakka…that was it, the captain of the Besaid Blitz squad_. This Wakka had a man's body, but a boy's face under that impossibly styled red hair. _He is too innocent, his eyes are too trusting. If he is one of Yuna's guardians, the journey will change that soon enough._

The frenzy of the crowd fleeing the stadium had nothing to do with the game; the place now seemed to hold more fiends than fans. _It is going to be a long afternoon_, Auron thought, as a garuda attacked them. The three of them handled the big flyer easily, even though the boys fought one-handed for part of the battle; attempting to cover their noses and mouths, as the monster's stench proved to be almost as potent a weapon as either its beak or its claws. _Tidus has learned something about how to use that sword_, Auron noted with some amusement, _and this Wakka knows how to handle that Blitzball as a weapon to good effect_. But Auron considered the number of monsters in the stadium, and wondered how long the three of them could manage. Tidus' heartfelt "Gimme a break!" could have been said by any of them. The young Maester, Seymour Guado, did give them a 'break', calling his aeon, Anima, to dispatch all the fiends at once. Auron was surprised by this aeon; it was one that Braska had not possessed. The aeon was dark, twisted somehow, or maybe the Guado was. Anima's attack was pure pain, it cried as it destroyed the fiends, and its tears were blood.

When the stadium was cleansed of its filth, Auron briefly noted that the Guado Maester seemed quite pleased with his performance, maybe too pleased, before fixing his attention on Tidus. Now that the adrenaline rush of the battle was over, the boy was glaring at him in undisguised fury. Wakka looked from Auron to Tidus in awkward confusion.

"You gonna be okay, brudda?" he asked Tidus. "I gotta take care of the team and be ready to go with Yuna pretty quick."  
"Yeah, sure, fine, whatever," Tidus replied dismissively, still staring at Auron, who seemed unmoved by the boy's intensity. "Say goodbye to everyone for me. Okay, Wakka?"  
"Sure thing. You take care of yourself, ya?"  
"You, too, Wakka. Take care of Yuna."  
"Wait," Auron interrupted. "Do you know where we might find Lady Yuna?"  
"Sure I do, Sir Auron. I'm one of Yuna's guardians. We're…uhh…supposed to meet at the north stairs in a couple of hours, so Yuna can go on with her pilgrimage."

"Thank you," Auron replied dismissively to Wakka, then he turned to Tidus and said gruffly, "We should go. We have much to discuss." Auron began walking away, out of the stadium. Tidus stood watching Auron's departing back, anger growing by the minute. Auron looked over his shoulder then, one eyebrow raised, and asked coldly, "Are you coming?" the tone of his voice sounding as though he were talking to a child. Tidus exchanged a glance with Wakka, and then followed Auron. Angry as he was with the man, he had to follow him. Auron was the only one who might be able to tell him what the hell was going on.

Auron led Tidus out of the stadium and down to the Luca docks; aware of the boy's heated eyes on his back every step of the way. He stopped them both on one of the cargo docks, surrounded by boxes and crates, struck by a sudden flash of memory.

_Braska, Jecht, and I, after a Blitzball game Jecht had asked me to capture on a sphere for this boy, back in Zanarkand, capturing Jecht as well, sniffling back a rush of homesickness_. _And now, I'm going to tear that same boy's world apart._

Tidus was furious with Auron. Nothing the older man said made any sense. Auron believed it was better that way. _Tidus thought everything must be my fault, that I dragged him to Spira. He didn't want to believe that Jecht and I knew Braska as well, that we 'defeated' Sin together ten years ago. That if it was anyone's 'fault' that I went to Zanarkand, that he was in Spira, now, it was Jecht's. He refused to accept that Jecht was Sin. I couldn't blame him. My unwillingness to accept that fact had killed me ten years ago._

If the boy was off-balance, it kept him focused away from questions Auron did not want to answer. Or rather, questions he wanted to answer even less than the ones the boy was asking, which were bad enough. _Keeping the boy from asking questions that I will refuse to answer, or even listen to, will be a challenge. It will be a far simpler task if Tidus continues to be angry with me._ But Auron was unable to maintain his indifference in the face of the boy's obvious distress. The habits of the last few years were suddenly too strong to overcome, and he placed a comforting hand on the boy's shaking shoulder for a brief moment, saying, "It's all right."

But Auron quickly retreated behind his impassive mask, and informed the boy that he was going to offer his services to Yuna, clearly implying that Tidus was welcome to come along, if he chose. Auron walked away from Tidus, away from the docks, toward the north stairs and the exit from Luca that led to the Mi'ihen Highroad. Tidus followed him reluctantly through the crowded streets.

As he neared the party waiting on the platform, Auron studied the members of Yuna's party, attempting to judge their fitness as guardians. Wakka he had already met. He locked eyes with the Ronso, and they each inclined their heads slightly. _Kimahri, you son of a…What the hell are you doing here?_ _The rest don't really matter. Kimahri and I alone can get Yuna to Zanarkand_. He saw the woman next, and knew immediately that she was a black mage, and a young one, at that. _What is it with these black mages? Why do the young ones always have to show off? That stupid dress is too heavy for the south, too exposed for Macalania and Gagazet, and those clacking belts will announce our presence to every fiend within a hundred yards. So, she has to use personal spells to keep cool, to keep warm, to keep silent, just to show how powerful she is. Ridiculous_.

At last, behind the mage, Braska's daughter, Yuna. He had last seen her in person as a little girl, clinging to her father, begging him not to leave. Now, she was a grown woman, a summoner on her own pilgrimage. When he saw her on the sphere, Auron thought she looked just like her mother, Jenni, but seeing her now, he saw Braska's gentleness, and Braska's determination, in her blue and green eyes. She was his lord's daughter, and he had sworn to Braska that he would guard her. So Auron offered his services, as guardian, to Yuna. Strictly speaking, he offered both his, and the boy's. She accepted.

The early trials of the road kept him looking ahead, not behind. He convinced himself it was better this way, or, at least, he tried. Tidus attempted to draw him out about Zanarkand on several occasions, but the older man easily fended him off, bluntly at first, later in anger, finally with icy coldness. Eventually, the boy gave up, as his interest in Yuna continued to grow. Tidus and the summoner spent more time together as the pilgrimage progressed. Unless a way was found to change her fate, the relationship was doomed. The boy was the only one who didn't know. It was painful for everyone to watch. But especially so for Auron. Too many echoes, too many memories. At the Travel Agency on the Mi'ihen Highroad, watching the two of them looking at the sunset, Auron wanted…_too many things that were not meant to be_. He went back inside.

Tidus wanted to wait for nightfall by the Moonflow, to watch the pyreflies gather. Auron thought, _He does not know that the sight of the moonlilies at twilight is considered to be one of the seven wonders of Spira. I refuse to linger here for this…_ Aloud, Auron only commented from behind his collar, "We're not waiting 'til nightfall," implying that he considered the delay a waste of time.

It took the party almost six weeks to reach Guadosalam, and, by the time they arrived, they had added one more to their group, the Al Bhed girl called Rikku, Yuna's cousin, and the most unlikely guardian of all. _This must be the largest summoner's party ever recorded, _Auron realized. He suspected the temples would not be exactly be thrilled at the prospect. _Too many survivors_, he thought to himself, somewhat grimly.

Seymour Guado was a bastard, whatever his parents' marital status. There was something inside him that was just…twisted, for lack of a better word. Seymour hadn't merely asked Yuna to marry him. He had also tried to sow dissension. He upset Yuna with his so-called offer. Attempted to split the party as to whether it would be better for Spira for her to accept or not. Hinted about Auron's status. _And how had the bastard picked that phrase "the actors must play their parts"?_ It brought back too any memories. And Tidus was in such pain. He had so clearly fallen in love with Yuna. Auron didn't want to let it bother him, but he felt for the boy's anguish. All of it raised too many ghosts that he had wanted to keep buried until this journey was over.

The Farplane, the one place in Spira Auron did not want to, and could not, go. Yet, Yuna wished to visit, to consult with her father about Seymour's proposal. He would wait outside, since he could not go in himself. He should not allow himself to be tempted and ask the boy to look. There was nothing that could be done. He sat on the stairs, struggling with himself, not to say or do anything to indicate the debate raging within. The boy was still talking. _Damn, he could talk forever. So could the Al Bhed. Would he never shut up and just go! Finally_. But, just as the boy's arm swung past him, Auron's hand shot out and gripped it. Tidus stopped walking and looked down, as the older man released his arm. Auron whispered, his voice so hoarse the boy could barely hear him, "See if she's there."

"No problem," was the equally quiet reply, and Tidus moved on into the Farplane. There was no need for either of them to identify who 'she' was. As the boy went through the barrier, Auron realized that he was, after all, still a fool, and that 'she' would have told him so, saying that meant he was 'only human'. Rikku couldn't see the sad smile he hid behind his collar.

Tidus found the Farplane a place of revelations. Wakka finally admitted his brother Chappu might be truly dead. Maybe. Lulu realized that not only was Chappu dead, but that she was still alive, and that it might be time for her to move on with her life. Tidus saw Yuna with her parents. His attempt to call his old man failed, since Jecht was not precisely dead, but he couldn't think about his dad without thinking about his mom, who did appear. When Yuna explained how his mother could be in the Farplane, he understood Auron's request a little better. If his mom was here, then 'she' could be, too. After he talked to Yuna about his mom's death, he tried calling 'her' for Auron, like he promised, but 'she' didn't come. Yuna was a little puzzled at his delay, but he didn't have a chance to explain before Lulu and Wakka asked if Yuna was ready to leave. _Besides, it isn't my business to explain, anyway, it's Auron's_.

Tidus didn't understand why this Lord Jyscal was such a 'great man', but then, he didn't exactly get the whole Yevon thing, either. He thought the Guado had probably been perfectly happy before Jyscal brought them the teachings, and it sure seemed like Rikku's people were just as happy without the teachings. _Whatever_. But when they were all leaving, it sure upset everyone when this Jyscal Guado guy tried to get out of the Farplane after he'd already been sent in. Dead people just weren't supposed to do that. The whole scene gave Tidus the shivers every time he thought about it.

Afterwards, Tidus didn't have a chance to tell Auron anything. He wasn't sure he wanted to, either. The young man wasn't certain, but he didn't think this was going to be the 'good' news. By the time the group learned that Seymour had left Guadosalam, it was too late to make any sense to head out, so they got rooms at the inn again. The three women occupied a suite together, leaving the men in four small single rooms. Tidus waited until traffic in the halls had quieted down before seeking the older guardian's room.

Tidus knocked on Auron's door, and heard the man say, "Enter", so he stepped inside. It was clear from the minute he saw Auron that the man had taken the opportunity of the relative safety and privacy of the inn room to let his guard down, at least for one night. Tidus saw Auron as he had not seen him since Zanarkand, a couple of nights before the last Blitz game. Sitting on the bed, knee up to his chest, clad in just pants and a t-shirt, no armor, coat, collar, glove or glasses. The lamplight caught the heavy gold ring now on Auron's right hand. The older man had apparently been keeping it concealed within the bracer glove since they had arrived in Spira, so Tidus had been wondering if Auron still wore it. Now the boy knew.

Without his armor, Auron seemed more open, more, well, relaxed. He seemed like the man Tidus had known the last five years in Zanarkand, not the stranger from the first five years, or the last six weeks.  
Auron raised one eyebrow. "Auron," Tidus coughed, cleared his throat, started again. "Auron, I called her on the Farplane like you asked. She wasn't there."  
The older man's face contorted in a mask of pain. His good eye closed. "Get out," he said roughly.  
"But, Auron," Tidus trailed off miserably.  
"Get out." There was anger now, a lot of anger, but his eye was still closed. Tidus fled the room, slamming the door behind him in his haste. At the sound of the boy's retreating footsteps, the man reached blindly for the jug of liquor. He brought it to his lips for a long pull of the fiery drink.

Auron had hoped the drink would bring oblivion. He should have known better. Being unsent had advantages and disadvantages. Among the advantages were increased endurance and stamina. He could do without food and sleep if necessary. He had just found one of the disadvantages. He could drink, and it seemed that it did lower his inhibitions, but as the level of spirits in the jug steadily fell he became aware that he could no longer get so drunk that he would pass out. He definitely could not get drunk enough to forget. By reducing his inhibitions, the liquor made him do something he had been desperately trying not to do since he left Zanarkand nearly two months ago. It made him remember…

End Chapter One

* * *

Author's Note: All chapter titles are song titles, and the lyrics or mood of the song relate directly to the chapter. The title of this chapter is from the song "Missing You", originally performed by John Waite, and specifically refers to the lyrics, "You don't know, how desperate I've become, and it looks like I'm losing this fight," as well as the chorus, "I ain't missing you, I keep lying to myself. And there's a storm that's raging, through my frozen heart tonight, I ain't missing you at all." 


	2. Holding out for a Hero

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters, who begin to appear in the next chapter. The title of the chapter is from a song by Jim Steinman and Dean Pitchford, originally performed by Bonnie Tyler. In the context of this story, Auron is the hero, but, in the context of the game, the fayth needed two heroes; Jecht is the "street-wise Hercules" in the song, and Auron is, not the white knight, of course, but a red knight, both ready "to fight the rising odds."

* * *

Auron sat up all night in his room at the inn in Guadosalam drinking, and remembering…

…Spira…Zanarkand…Ten years ago…

_It all began in Besaid, when I promised Braska I would take Yuna away from Bevelle, away from the conflict, and bring her to the island...after he had defeated Sin…after he had died. Then, in Zanarkand, I promised Jecht I would go to his Zanarkand, and watch over his son. I gave him my word that I would find a way, just before he followed Braska and Yunalesca, and met his own fate._

_When I gave my word to Braska, I expected that I would be the one to escort Yuna from Bevelle to Besaid. When I gave my word to Jecht, I did not know how I would find a way to keep it, only that I would find a way, or die trying. Then I watched them sacrifice themselves in a vain attempt to defeat Sin, and I learned that everything we had ever been taught…everything I had ever believed in… was a cheat and a lie. I just couldn't accept it. In a blazing fury…no… in a blinding, blundering, idiotic combination of grief, despair, and hubris… I returned to Yunalesca, and tried to avenge them, but she struck me down with a single blow. Somehow, I dragged myself down Mt. Gagazet, but my strength failed me just outside Bevelle._

_Kimahri found me by the side of the road. We were both warriors, we both knew that my wounds were beyond healing. He asked if there was anything that he could do for me, very formally, in the Ronso way. He called it, "the last wish of a man facing death." I told him my request was not for myself, but for my dead lord. Then, I asked that he go into Bevelle and search for Yuna, describing her, telling him she was the daughter of High Summoner Braska, requesting that he escort her to the island of Besaid, on my behalf. He gave me his word, and left me to die._

_But I died alone by the side of that road; my lord was dead… and there was no other summoner there to send me to the Farplane._

_So I waited, and watched the pyreflies gather inside the spent shell of my body, and wondered exactly how many of Yevon's teachings about the dead would prove true, and how many would prove false. I knew the sendings for truth, I had witnessed Braska perform many, I believed in him, and I believed in the evidence of my own eyes. But as for the rest, I would learn the truth for myself. _

_The 'teachings' stated that the dead refused to accept their fate. I had been promised to the warrior monks as a boy, begun training as soon as I was considered old enough, sooner; actually, I had begun by sneaking in to older boys' lessons. I had known my wounds were mortal almost as soon as they were dealt. Even if I had not, I had had plenty of time to become aware of that fact, as I dragged myself down the mountain. Death had been a release from agonizing pain. But not a release from my promises. My promises, my obligations bound me to the world._

_I did not resent or envy the living. I felt no anger toward the living. I felt an obligation toward the dead. Kimahri gave me his word that he would take Yuna to Besaid. But I had given my word to Braska. Kimahri's obligation to me did not relieve me of my obligation to my lord. And no one could relieve me of my obligation to Jecht._

_I 'saw' that the dead were not lost, as the priests had always told us. I needed no guidance. There were three paths, clearly laid out before me. One led to the Farplane. I could see myself, standing next to Braska. His face was serene, his form unbroken; whatever I chose, I would cherish this memory, so different from my last sight of him, his body riven by the sword of his Aeon on its way to Sin._

_The second path led to a Behemoth King wearing the remains of a tattered red coat. So, there had been a kernel of truth in the teachings, after all. I could become a fiend, if I chose, or if I remained indecisive for too long._

_Down the third road I saw myself…changed. The right side of my face was a ruin; a hideous scar sealed my eye. But my sword was over my shoulder, and I carried it easily. It was clear that down this path, I was able to bear the weapon. My appearance didn't matter. Jecht appeared ahead of me along this path, shouting, "Auron, get moving! You gotta choose this way. I can take you to Zanarkand now. You found the way."_

_And in that moment, I made my choice, and my…self…slammed back into my body. I put my hands up to my face, and felt the scar I had seen in the vision. All my other wounds appeared to have closed in the same manner. I was whole, except for my eye, and I was unsent. In this form, I knew I could act in and on the world. It seemed I could go to Zanarkand; I could fulfill my promises. I stood, and walked toward the Sea. _

_Jecht met me there, and I rode his Sin back to Zanarkand. We…talked…on the journey. Mostly Jecht talked, I listened. Some things, it seemed, had not changed._

_It was the strangest place I had ever seen, until I reached Zanarkand. Jecht was…there…just as he had been before he became Braska's fayth. Wild hair, snapping black eyes, dark beard, tattoo across his chest, and loud and arrogant as ever. Still the same Jecht. "Where am I?" I asked him.  
"Inside Sin, where'd you think you were?"  
"Then what's this supposed to be?"  
"Zanarkand. It's Zanarkand, but like in my worst nightmare."  
"Your Zanarkand is like this? I thought you said it was beautiful."  
"Auron, calm down. The real Zanarkand is beautiful. This is just a bad dream. Speaking of bad dreams, man, what the hell happened to you?"  
"Yunalesca," I tried to keep my voice flat, not to let my emotions, my disgust with myself, show._

_"Man, what were you thinking, goin' against Yunalesca like that? That's the stupidest thing I ever heard of. Even worse than when I attacked that damned shoopuf. I mean, you weren't even drunk, and hell, I had a fighting chance against that shoopuf." He was lecturing me, and he was enjoying it. He hadn't had many opportunities during our journey. I had always been the one lecturing him. "Auron, you weren't supposed to have to die to go back and watch over my boy, you know." I remember he paused for a second, and shook his head, but then he went on._

_"Anyway, Auron, we don't have much time, and there's a bunch of stuff I have to tell you before we get to Zanarkand. We both know now that Sin's not the real problem. There's someone else in here controlling everything. He's the one we have to take out. When Braska…called me…and I beat Sin…even before Miyoshi was dead, this Yu Yevon character had already grabbed my mind…"_

_I remembered Jecht's voice trailing off, and I remembered hearing a roaring sound in my ears, and it wasn't until I was on the ground working my jaw after Jecht punched me that I realized that the roaring I had heard had been coming from my own throat. Yevon was not god; Yu Yevon, the father of Yunalesca, controlled Sin. I stood to face my friend's concern, my hands balled into fists at my side.  
"Hey, Auron, you okay? We ain't got time for this right now."  
"I understand…I'm sorry. Who was Miyoshi?"  
"The last Sin."  
"She must have been Lady Yocun's fayth."  
"I guess. She's the one who told me about Yu Yevon. She told me to resist him as long as I could, to try to keep a piece of myself separate as long as possible. When I asked her how long, she said somethin' weird. She said, ' the Blitzer lasted ten years', but that don't make no sense. I mean, I just got here."  
"Lord Ohalland, one of the High Summoners before Lady Yocun, was also a Blitzball player. He must have chosen one of his teammates as his fayth. Maybe she meant that his fayth resisted ten years, before he lost himself to Yu Yevon," I said, gritting my teeth as I spat out the name.  
"Then she said somethin' even weirder, just before she…died. She said, '__Now, you are more than a dream...but your Zanarkand...is a dream...a dream of the fayth. It is summoned, as we are summoned.' What was she talkin' about?"  
"I don't know, Jecht."  
"It don't matter, Auron. We still gotta find a way to break the cycle."  
"I know."  
"And that means, we gotta find a way to beat this Yu Yevon guy, not just beat Sin."  
"I know that, Jecht, I know."  
"But Auron, you're the only one who knows. You gotta come back to Spira. And…you gotta bring my boy. I think it's important that he comes back with you, or that you come back with him. I don't know which. But I still want him to have his chance, you know, in Zanarkand? To be a star Blitzball player. I still want him to see that view from the top, like we talked about. I want to give him those ten years, Auron. Take care of him for me. In ten years, I'll come back for you, and bring you both to Spira. I can hang on that long. If that other guy did, I know I can." For a second, he sounded just like the old Jecht, cocky as hell._

_Then he changed. "Auron, this Yu Yevon is already trying to get at me. I can feel him… in my head. Right now, I can keep him out, but I know it'll just get tougher and tougher. I saw Miyoshi's face, at the end. She remembered…everything she'd done when she was Sin. She was glad to go. Auron, you have to promise me something. If you can't find a way to break the cycle, promise me that in ten years, you'll make sure that someone takes me out. Hell, my boy probably hates me enough to do the job himself. I know I ain't been much of a father."_

_"Jecht, I give you my word," I told him, adding silently… even if I have to offer myself in your place._

_It had seemed that Jecht was satisfied with my answer, because he nodded abruptly and announced, "We're here. Auron, you're gonna have to think of somethin' to tell my wife and kid. I don't know how Linnya's gonna take the news. It won't be easy for her, I know." He shook his head sadly. " Watch over my boy. I'll be back for you in ten years."_

_He offered me his hand to shake, and when I took it, I found myself on the Zanarkand shore, south of the ruins, except… it wasn't a ruin anymore. It was like nothing I had ever seen, except the nightmare version inside Sin. This was Zanarkand as it had been, alive and awake in the night, the lights of the city closer and brighter than a thousand stars._

…Spira…Guadosalam

The room was cold, the fire was nearly out. He got up and threw some more kindling into the hearth, stood waiting for the small branches to start burning. He just wanted to add more fuel to the fire and try to get some sleep. _No._ Now that he had begun, he should continue...

End Chapter Two

* * *

Author's note: I would like to thank one of my own personal heroes; rjthclown, who has been working with me on editing and beta-reading the re-write of this story. Just…thank you. 


	3. Desperado

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The song "Desperado" was written by Glenn Frey and Don Henley, performed by the Eagles.

* * *

It was after midnight, according to the clock beside the bed. Now that the fire was going again, Auron sat back down, and reached for the jug on the bedside table. The lamplight reflected off the heavy gold ring, and he closed his eye for a moment, then he took a long drink. He still found it necessary to deceive himself; that he required the alcohol in order to make this journey into his memories… 

…Zanarkand…Beginning ten years ago until five years ago…

Just seeing the city lights in the night, he could tell that it was larger than either Bevelle or Luca, perhaps larger than both combined. He had no way to judge what time of night it was, there were so many people walking the streets, it might as well have been midday for all that he knew. He looked up into the sky, to see if he could tell anything from the stars, but the lights of the city were so bright, that most of the constellations were lost in the glow. He could barely make out Ramuth, even though the star at the tip of his staff was normally the brightest light in the northern sky.

_Jecht said I was going to have to think of something to tell his wife and son. Where should I go while I'm thinking?_ Auron looked around, completely bewildered by the noise coming from all the buildings around him and the number of people rushing by him. He remembered something Jecht used to talk about, when the man was either nostalgic, or drunk. _I know, I'll go around to the eastern side of the city, and wait for the sunrise._

Auron sat up all night, scanning the eastern horizon, and watched for the dawn. He had expected to make plans, but in the end, he just sat, raw with grief, and numb from shock. He didn't plan, he didn't think, he didn't even feel. For that one night, he just watched, and waited for the sun's rays to appear in the distance. He saluted the dawn with his empty tokkuri, whispering, "See you in ten years, Jecht." Then he began to take stock of himself.

The tokkuri was empty because he had emptied it on his way down Gagazet and never refilled it. He realized that he was thirsty, and slightly hungry as well. Not nearly as hungry or thirsty as he should have been…after…what…more than an entire day without either food or drink, but he now perceived that there were some physical limitations to his unsent status. He had also not slept in that same span of time. He was not yet tired, but he could already tell that he would reach that state at some point, that he could not go indefinitely without sleep. He expended energy, and needed to recover it through rest, but it seemed that he could easily go without sleep for one night and suffer no ill effects. Next, he slipped a dagger from his boot and used the blade to pierce the pad of his thumb. The cut bled, so he placed the knife back in its sheath and sucked the cut clean of blood while he thought for a moment. His heart pumped blood, his lungs drew breath, everything still seemed to work. It was as though the…life force, whatever that was, that had died outside Bevelle, had been replaced by the pyreflies. They were just more efficient. _I am unsent, but it seems I am not immortal. I must be as careful, as vigilant, as I ever was. I cannot neglect my training. I know I can be wounded, so I must assume I can be poisoned, or otherwise afflicted, as well. And I must remember my purpose… or I will become a fiend._

Then he stood, and reached inside his coat for the pouch of gil that he always carried, and fingered the few coins he had left. _I wonder what these are worth, here?_ he mused as he started walking into the city. He halted in his tracks. _What am I going to do with myself for ten years?_ Eventually, he shook himself out of his hesitation, and continued on.

Jecht had always described his Zanarkand as 'the city that never slept'. Last night, Auron had seen so many people on the streets that he thought he had finally understood what Jecht had meant. This morning, the streets were positively jammed with people. It seemed immeasurably more crowded than Luca at tournament time, and Auron felt…uncomfortable. At first, he put it down to his own awkwardness. He kept staring up, at all the tall buildings, at the machina everywhere, trying to take in everything all at once. It reminded him of the first time his parents had brought him to Luca, when he was five years old. He had been born outside the city; he had not seen any place larger than a farming settlement until then. The first time he had seen Luca; he had felt just like this. He seemed to be expending a great deal too much energy just in keeping his expression neutral, when what he really wanted to do was point out every fascinating thing he saw. Except that he had no one to point the interesting things out to. He was completely alone in this crowd, in this world. He stopped looking up, and began to notice the other people around him. That was when he realized that too many people were staring at him, rudely, and then turning away. One woman, with a young child, nearly shrieked when she saw him, then picked up her little girl and hurried away, keeping the child's face turned away from him.

Auron made his way to the edge of the crowd, and saw himself reflected in the glass of the building he stood beside. As he had seen in the vision, the right side of his face was indeed a ruin. A long scar ran from his hairline, through his right eye to the middle of his cheek. A second scar ran so close beside it that it almost seemed like part of the same wound, unless one was looking extremely closely, starting at his eyebrow, ending almost at his jaw. His right eye was sealed behind the scar. The fact that his hair had suddenly gone gray at the temples was not the issue; those scars were enough to frighten small children. _These would be badges of honor on Spira. Here, I must find a way to make them less… obvious…or I will not even be able to deliver a message to Jecht's wife and son, let alone watch over the boy._

He found a shop selling dark glasses; they seemed much like the goggles the Al Bhed used on Spira. The opaque lenses concealed the worst of the damage. He surrendered some of his meager store of gil in return for the…'sunglasses' the shopkeeper called them…and returned to the street. Strangers now seemed to look through him, but after observing their behavior with one another other, Auron decided this was normal. Further observation showed him the truth of something Jecht had said, but had seemed so impossible that he hadn't believed it could be true. _No one had a weapon; therefore, no one needed a weapon. There really are no fiends here. How am I supposed to earn my keep for ten years?_

Jecht had described the way to his place so many times, Auron had thought he could find it easily, but the size and complexity of the maze of streets and passages was more confusing than anything he had ever anticipated. He needed to request directions several times, and in the end, was forced to use a machina that one person referred to as a 'wayfinder', in order to finally reach his destination. His experience with the machina left him shaken. Making the leap between knowing that the 'teachings' regarding machina being the cause of Sin must be lies, and requesting assistance from a machina in the space of a few days…his brain was still stumbling over this when he knocked on Jecht's door.

The door was opened by a small, towheaded boy with bright blue eyes, who challenged, "What do you want?" as a woman stepped into the doorframe behind the child, who was obviously her son.  
_This must be Linnya, and the boy…must be Tidus_.  
The woman's light brown hair was mussed, as if she had just been woken, but she looked at him expectantly, almost eagerly. "Can I help you?" she asked Auron, searching his face.  
"My name is Auron. And you must be Linnya. Jecht talked a lot about you," he said, very gravely.  
Something in his tone, or his expression, confirmed her worst fears, without his having to say another word. She began to weep, silently, as she grabbed his arm and pulled him inside.  
Linnya did not sob, or scream, or yell. She just continued to weep, silently, while Auron told her the simplest version of their journey that he could think of, as he prayed to whatever force was left to pray to that she would accept his half-truth and not ask him too many questions. All the time that Auron talked, the boy alternated between staring at the stranger and watching his mother, wishing that this guy would just leave them alone so that he could take care of his mom, now that his old man was finally dead.

The story Auron told was that Jecht had washed up on the shore of Bevelle, many miles south of Zanarkand, more than three months ago. How he had traveled so far, Jecht had said he didn't remember, and Auron did not elaborate. Jecht, Auron and another man had set out from Bevelle, to try to get Jecht back to Zanarkand. The trip had proven extremely hazardous, and both Jecht's and the other man's lives had been lost along the way. Since he had promised Jecht that he would watch over his family, Auron would make a place for himself here in Zanarkand. _Somewhere, somehow, doing something._

Auron waited for Linnya to condemn him for his lies, as he was condemning himself. _Lies of omission are still lies_. But she just sat there, holding herself and rocking in place. The boy walked over and put his arms as far around his mother as they could reach.  
Auron felt suffocated in this place, he wanted to leave. "Is there anything I can do?" he asked hesitantly.  
It was the boy who answered. "Please…leave us alone."  
"I'll return in a few days, if I may?"  
Linnya looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. "Please come back, Auron. I want to hear more about your trip with my husband. Please come back soon."  
"I promise."

…

He walked through the city, uncertain of what he should do next. He needed to find something he knew, something he understood. He had spent all his life training to be a warrior monk. He was uncertain what use those skills would be in this machina city.

His wanderings had brought him to a warehouse district, and he found himself staring in the windows at a sight that was, after all, familiar. Ten students, working through the kata. _This is a dojo!_ He watched, avidly, and saw that the teacher, the sensei, was an elderly man. He observed the entire lesson, and the next, as well. The sensei was very old, indeed. Auron could tell from watching the students that the master knew how to teach, but it was clear that he was no longer able to demonstrate what needed to be taught. _Perhaps there is a place for me here, after all._

Then he saw his face reflected in the glass. He looked entirely disreputable. In addition to the scar, he now had a heavy beard, and he seriously needed a bath. _I must get a room tonight, clean myself up, and come back tomorrow._

He found somewhere close, and used up some of his remaining money for a room and a meal. He thought he could have gone another night without sleep, but cleaning himself up was crucial to his plan. In the morning, he knew he looked considerably less like a bandit after a bath and a shave, but then he decided that there was still something wrong. _I must get some kind of collar to cover more of this scar_, was his first thought, but that really wasn't the answer. He continued to stare at himself in confusion. Then he pulled the left side of his coat over his left shoulder, but did not put his left arm through the sleeve. _My lord is dead. This is how it must be done, now_.

He left the room, taking his few belongings with him, and returned to the dojo he had found the day before. He waited outside until the sensei arrived, later in the morning.  
"May I help you, young man?" the sensei asked Auron.  
"Sensei, I believe that we may be of assistance to each other."  
"Perhaps. What is your name?"  
"I am called Auron, Sensei."  
"Well, Auron, I am Hikaru. How do you think you may assist me?" the old man asked, in a quelling tone.  
Auron wanted the floor to swallow him. He had been overconfident, too eager. _I said the wrong thing, I took the wrong approach._  
"Sensei, I…"  
"I saw you watching, yesterday, two classes. What is it you seek from me?" Hikaru said, more kindly. He read the signs. This young man had just lost his position, that much he understood from the way he wore his coat. He also seemed…lost…somehow, more than could easily be accounted for.  
"I seek…a place. I believe I could serve as your assistant," Auron added hesitantly.  
"I cannot pay much, but there is an apartment above the studio, at the top of the stairs over there, where you could live. If this works out," Hikaru stated firmly. "First, you must show me what you can do. Let me see if you have any skills worth paying for," the old man said, trying to sound stern, but there was a slight twinkle in his eye.  
As Auron started to work through the kata, the old sensei began to nod in satisfaction. This young man would make a fine assistant. It seemed that Auron had found his place.  
In the corner of the dojo, there was a flash of silver. Hikaru thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye, but it was gone.

…

Auron returned to Jecht's house the following day. Linnya was eager to see him again; she wanted to hear every detail of his journey with her husband. As he began to tell her the version that he had determined would be 'safe', the boy closed himself behind the door of his room, and did not emerge until his mother called him for dinner, well after Auron had finished talking and had begun listening to Linnya speak about her life with Jecht. He was concerned to note that she did not seem to consider many other topics worth discussing, not even her son. _I hope this is only her grief talking_.

As the weeks passed, Auron discovered that it had not been. The dojo was closed the last day of each sennight, and he made it a habit to spend part of each of his days off with Linnya and Tidus. From week to week, he could see that the woman was fading, it seemed that she had lost her will to live. Auron and the boy watched each other warily whenever he came to call; Tidus just wasn't sure what to think of anyone who presented himself as a friend of his old man's. But as the weeks turned into months, and Linnya's condition continued to deteriorate, the man and the boy formed an unspoken pact; neither would speak of the fear that gripped them both, _if she dies, I wouldn't know what to do_.

Linnya gave up her hold on life less than a year after she learned that Jecht would not be returning. Later, the doctors wrote something official sounding on her death certificate, but Auron and Tidus both knew that she really died of a broken heart. It was something else that they shared, but never spoke of. Now that Tidus' mother was dead, Auron truly didn't know what to do.

Auron stayed up all night, in an attempt to carefully weigh his options. Linnya's older sister and her husband had arrived immediately after Linnya had died, and had tried to throw him out of the house and carry Tidus away without even allowing him to explain his presence or let Tidus say farewell to him. The scene had been appalling. Tidus had completely broken down at that point, and had clung to him, sobbing uncontrollably, refusing to let him go. _His initial resentment I understood. I said I was Jecht's friend, I knew that would not serve me as a way to the boy's good graces_. _But when Linnya died,_ _I must have been the only familiar presence in a sea of strangers. That is the only possible explanation for his behavior_. _At least, I was older when I faced this loss…and on Spira, it was…expected_. It was only when the neighbors began arriving and asking questions that Tilla and Harro had been willing to stop and listen to a few explanations of the events of Linnya's and Tidus' life for the past year. _If this Tilla is Linnya's sister, where has she been the last few months?_ _Her sister's behavior…if that is what her family is like, it is no wonder she did not have much contact with them. _Tidus would not calm down, or let him go, until his aunt and uncle had agreed to let Auron come and see him the following week, and had given Auron the directions to their house.

He had to go there, he had no choice. He had given Jecht his word he would keep an eye on the boy. _Should I do more? Should I try to raise the boy myself?_ At that thought, his courage failed him. _I do not know what to do. I do not know what he needs. Neither do they_, his conscience answered back. _These courts of theirs, he is not my blood, I would lose. You could still try_, said his conscience. _I am not ready for this; I will do what I can_. His conscience did not answer, but the silence echoed back like disappointment, or failure.

The following week, he arrived, as promised, at Tidus' new residence, to take the boy out for the afternoon. He established the habit of taking the child out regularly, usually on his day off. They normally didn't do much, just walked around the city, and Tidus talked a lot, _the boy always talked too much_, but a bond slowly developed between them, built on the foundation of that shared experience of watching Linnya in silence. His aunt and uncle provided Tidus with a kind of a home, but had no idea of how to meet his emotional needs. Auron didn't either, but he made no pretense of it, which Tidus found…comforting…in a strange way. His aunt and uncle were just going through the motions of caring for him, because it was expected of them, and Tidus could tell they were faking it. He knew that he could count on Auron, because with Auron, he thought he always knew exactly where he stood.

…

Five years passed. Sensei Hikaru retired, and Auron became the owner of the dojo. Tidus began playing blitz, but not as seriously as he could have, or should have. He clearly had talent, talent his father's had sarcasm only stifled. Auron wasn't sure how to accomplish that part of what he had promised Jecht. The boy seemed to talk about practicing more than he actually practiced. It was as though Tidus were afraid that, if he really tried, he would discover that Jecht's critical remarks were a true measure of his potential. At twelve, the boy needed to get serious about the sport soon, if he was going to see that "view from the top" Jecht had wanted him to have.

…

The disadvantage to not requiring much sleep was that Auron often had a lot of time on his hands at night. There was only so much training, so much practice, any man could do. The walls seemed to close in, and he longed for the endless open spaces of Spira. He often spent long hours walking the streets of the city, trying to outpace his demons. Willing the time to pass until he could return, and fulfill his promises. And rest.

It was on one such night, after he had been in Zanarkand for five years, that Auron was walking the streets of the city. It was the end of the regular workweek, in the late spring, at about ten in the evening. He still didn't completely understand the city's artificial concept of a workweek and regular days off every sennight. He had finally accepted that they had such a concept; but he still didn't understand it for himself, as it was so foreign to the way that things were in Spira, where work followed the seasons, the fishing, the markets, or the temples. But here, it was the beginning of their 'sennight's end'. People were happy that they had a couple of days off before they had to start work again at the beginning of the next sennight. He was not particularly happy as he took a drink from the jug at his side. He was angry on this particular night. Angry at the universe, at Jecht, and, mostly, at himself. On nights like this, he often found himself wondering if time on Spira was really running parallel to time in Zanarkand, it if had truly been five years since he left, or five decades or even five centuries. _Maybe Spira has been completely wiped out by Sin_. Aloud, he said to himself, " I am a fool to even be here."

A half-familiar voice, not his own, whispered in his ear, "Guardian, you are a very stubborn man. We have been waiting a long time for you to say those words."

Very near, a door opened and the most captivating voice Auron had ever heard spilled out from the lighted doorway singing:

Desperado  
Why don't you come to your senses…

It proved to be a potent combination of whiskey and honey over his soul and spirit, intoxication and balm at the same time. He followed the voice through the doorway, as the song continued. He was momentarily distracted by the little man selling tickets at the door, "Ten gil and you're entitled to one cup of coffee with your ticket, sir."

He blindly handed over the money, and received the ticket in exchange. Blindly, because his dark glasses had fallen down his nose, so his eye needed to adjust to the lights inside, and as he did he found that his gaze had met the singer's, and then both were caught. She had seen him enter; he was hard to miss, since he mostly blocked the door. Once her eyes locked with his, she could have sworn her heart started to beat faster. _Hello, handsome, where did you come from?_ she asked him, but only inside her mind. She blinked and turned back to the audience, trying to regain her composure as she watched him search for a seat out of the corner of her eye.

He found a table in the second row, sat down without noticing anything of his surroundings. Then she could look him over, and he, her. It took them both a surprisingly long time, almost the rest of the song. _Thank goodness I can sing this one on autopilot_, she sighed. His coffee and a glass of water arrived without him even being aware of it.

She had seen him standing and moving. _He moves like a…hunter…no, a fighter_. She guessed he was roughly six feet tall, and suspected he was all muscle under the somewhat unusual garments, uniform, armor, or whatever it was he had on. She was very interested to see that he couldn't drink with the collar he had on, and he must have been very thirsty, because he was forced to remove it.

She liked this much better, because she could see more of his face this way. And it was a very compelling face, indeed. _Dark hair, brown, no, black, but gray at the temples. What's with the dark glasses, what's he hiding, it's dark enough in here already. He must be a good fighter, he's never broken that nose, it's too straight. Let's see, a mouth a girl would gladly go on kissing for…oh, say… a few hours, if she was willing to put up with a little chafing, since I bet that dark beard comes back pretty fast. The line of his jaw is about sharp enough to cut yourself, girl. In spite of the gray hair, he looks a lot nearer thirty than forty._

_That hurts_, she thought, _he must be about ten years younger than I am. Oh well, a girl can still dream, can't she? _Her eyes returned to his_. I can feel him staring, even through the dark glasses. He's so intense...it's like he is trying to see into me, or through me. I want to meet him._

As she looked him over, he did her the same 'courtesy'. She was beautiful. Her hair was a dark, rich brown, although the stage lights showed it shot with strands of silver here and there, it was cut into a soft cap that covered her head. Her eyes were large, deep-set, and the same brown he saw in his mirror when he shaved. Her lips looked utterly kissable, full and soft. But her face showed strength of will, and determination. She was petite, but what there was of her was packed into all the right places. Her short tunic and form fitting tights hugged her every curve. His body was responding to the sight as though he were a living man, something he was suddenly, and uncomfortably, aware of.

As his eyes came back up to meet hers she hit the last verse of the song:

Desperado  
Why don't you come to your senses  
Come down from your fences  
Open the gate  
It may be rainin'  
But there's a rainbow above you  
You'd better let somebody love you  
You'd better let somebody love you  
Before it's too late.

He felt the words sear his battered soul. She bowed as the crowd applauded. He saw then that her shirt was held together by one tie in the back...not something he needed to know in his current condition. He found himself shifting uncomfortably in the chair.

She sang four more songs that night. Her eyes, as always, roamed the audience, making eye contact with as many as possible, especially the 'regulars' that had watched their performances often over the years. But her gaze kept returning to the red-coated stranger, she found herself drawn to him. And each time she looked at him, she found it more difficult to look away.

At the end of the short set, her partner came forward from the shadows and introduced himself; she introduced herself, and then said, "Together, we are 'Mercy'. Goodnight, Lords, Ladies and Gentlefolk of all kinds. Thank you," as Dafydd packed his guitar and the instrumentation machine. She whispered to him that she was going to talk to someone. Dafydd knew her well, so he pointed a thumb in the direction of the stranger. She inclined her head in agreement. "Thought so," he replied.

As she walked towards the stranger's table, she noticed that he had also taken off the glove he had been wearing. _Good_, she thought, _the more of that 'armor' he loses the better. He has too many defenses to hide behind. I'd like to see what he looks like without any of it. Whoa! That's too far just yet!_ Two tables away from the stranger's, she was finally able to see what he was concealing behind the dark glasses. They had slipped down his face enough for her to meet his eyes, or rather, eye. His left was a deep brown; his right was sealed behind one of the nastiest scars she had ever seen. Her step faltered.

He met her eyes, and waited for her to turn away. She kept her eyes locked on his. _What the hell happened to you? Sword? Knife? I sure hope you gave as good as you got._ _Quit stalling girl. Does it matter? Decide quick, don't keep the man waiting_. She smiled, and to Auron it felt as though the sun had come out from behind a cloud, as she kept walking toward his table.

When she reached the back of the chair opposite his at the tiny table she was close enough to decide that yes, scar or no scar, she still wanted to see him without all the armor, and everything else. _Eventually_. But, the only word that she let escape from her lips was, "Hello."

Her speaking voice was almost as deep as her singing voice, and easy to listen to. He had watched her as she walked towards his table. She moved confidently, sure of herself in her own body. He also had the strangest feeling, as she walked towards him, _it must be an illusion_, that, unlike everything else, this woman, he saw stereoscopically, with both eyes.

"Hello," was about the only thing he trusted himself to reply, so that was all he said in response.

_I like his voice. He's got a nice, bass-baritone with a slightly husky note to it_. She couldn't bear to be more than friends with a man whose voice was pitched higher than her own. _I can definitely bear his_. She sat in the vacant chair.

She held out her right hand to him. "My name is Mercy. And you are…"

"Auron." But instead of pressing her hand briefly, the socially accepted thing, he took her hand in his and raised it to his lips. It should still have been just a momentary contact. Instead, it was an electric shock, stunning them both. His grip tightened on her hand for a moment, surprising them both again, the skin against skin touch more pleasurable than either of them had imagined. It seemed to take an eternity to let go, or even to break eye contact. She felt her cheeks burning.

_He's been drinking the coffee, poor man; I know it's terrible_. She found the untouched water glass, not that she would have cared as long as it still held some liquid, and swallowed half the contents. _I think this moment could stand to be lightened up just a bit. Why do I think I'm the one that's going to be doing it? Somehow, I get the feeling lightness isn't exactly one of his strengths_.

"Thank you," she said, smiling.  
"You're welcome," he replied, "but, I confess, it just arrived with the coffee, I didn't know you would be here, or that you would want it."  
"After I sing, I will drink anything, cold, wet, and non-alcoholic, and, in a pinch, I'll compromise on two out of three. It's a little difficult to compromise on the wet part." She laughed a little. He chuckled slightly in response. _Good, he either has a sense of humor, or at least the ability to get over himself. Better and better._

Auron thought it was time for him to go. She was too tempting, on too many levels. She was more beautiful, more alluring, up close than on stage. He could see that she was no child, and he found that even more appealing. This was a woman who might understand. When he'd taken her hand, he'd felt calluses, somewhat like his own. Not as hard, or as deep, but enough to tell him that she knew how to use a sword, a complete surprise in this supposedly safe city. _I do not understand this. I am…drawn to this woman. It would be best if I left this place, now. I want to see her again_. For once in his life, wanting won out over everything else.

He asked, "When do you perform again?"  
"Tomorrow night, probably sometime between half past eight and eleven, we never know exactly when, at the coffeehouse on Eighteenth and Embarcadero."  
"Then I will see you tomorrow night. Farewell, my lady." And with that last remark, he got up and left the club, his coat trailing behind him.  
"Damn," she muttered to his now empty chair. Then she headed for the Green Room.

Dafydd was waiting for her. "Well?"  
"Well, what?"  
"What happened, girl?"  
"Not much, but I expect he'll be in the audience tomorrow night"  
"Is that good, or bad?  
"Good, I think," she responded, with some hesitation.  
"Did you at least manage to find out the man's name?" he finally said in exasperation.  
"Oh yeah. His name is…Auron." _What happened back there?_ _Why did he leave so fast?_ _Did I get to him the way he got to me?_

A blue shimmer flickered in the corner of the Green Room, then disappeared.

Dafydd walked her home before heading home himself. Mercy was quiet, thinking about the evening, and her companion didn't press her. Daf thought it had been too long since she had been interested in someone, way too long even considering that last disaster. But he knew her too well to say anything. _It's about time you came back to life, sis. But I think I'll keep that thought to myself for a bit._ _I like living too much to even think of saying anything right now._

…Spira…Guadosalam

Auron remembered that he had dreamed about her that night. At first, when he had dreamed, he hadn't been certain of what he had been dreaming, looking for an act of mercy, compassion, or the woman Mercy, he had just met. But when he woke in the middle of the night, alone and achingly erect, he was sure he dreamt of the woman. He had thought he was done with all of that when he died. _No such luck apparently_, he remembered thinking to himself in the night. He had been alone, that night in Zanarkand. And he was alone, now, in Guadosalam, but he looked at the clock and saw that it must be nearly dawn outside the underground city. Time to go.

End Chapter Three.


	4. Court and Spark

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The song "Seven Wonders" was written by Sandy Stewart and Stevie Nicks, performed by Fleetwood Mac, and I don't own it, either. The title of the chapter is from a song originally performed by Joni Mitchell.

* * *

If Auron was sharper with his fellow guardians the next day on the Thunder Plains, no one noticed or, no one dared to comment. But then, no one would. It certainly may have contributed to his attitude toward Rikku's endless whining. He could not admit, even to himself, that he was secretly relieved when she begged to be allowed to rest in the Travel Agency.

In the privacy of his room, he let the contents of the tokkuri lull him into letting his guard down, again. It allowed him to lower the barrier between his waking mind, and the memories of Zanarkand he held deep in his heart.

…Zanarkand…five years ago…

Auron remembered sleeping little that night in Zanarkand, and practically cutting his own throat shaving that morning, mostly from distraction. He had immediately resolved that his workout that day would be conducted unarmed, as distraction and sharp edged weapons did not mix well.

He would have been gratified to know that Mercy had not fared much better. She slept 'like the dead', a full day's work capped by an evening's performance guaranteed it, but her normal sennight's end routine had been conducted through a haze of distraction as well.

In the late afternoon she found herself standing in front of the closet in the spare room where she kept her stage clothes, searching for the right outfit for the evening's performance, and muttering under her breath, "What to wear…what to wear…" as her hands shuffled the hangers over and over again through the same selection of brightly colored tunics.

_My shirts won't magically transform no matter how many times I go through them. I'd better start with the easy stuff and work my way up_. She grabbed a pair of black spandex tights from a drawer and shimmied into them. Her shoes still lay where she'd left them the night before, she scooped them up and laced them on, taking some care with the lacing, since the sandals consisted mostly of leather strings, which wove around her calves and tied behind her knees. _Once upon a time, someone told me a man would come back from the dead to watch me untie these shoes…I wonder if that's still true_.

She held her robe up to her waist, so she could see herself in the mirror from the waist down. _These black tights make my legs look longer, don't they? I sure hope so. I wish I were taller than five four_. She glanced at the clock, and let the robe fall. _Damn, I'm running out of time, I've still got to pick out a shirt. Why am I so edgy? This shouldn't be any different from any other night. Yeah, right._

She looked into the closet again, and started rejecting whole categories out of hand. _No white, I wore a white shirt last night. No black, too somber. No long sleeves tonight, it's spring, and I just don't feel like doing long sleeves._

From the remaining items, she began pulling shirts out at random. _No, that one's too dark. No way, the neckline on that one is practically up around my ears. Not tonight, that one is just too…electric. That one has too many beads. Good grief, that's cut so low, I think I'd fall out! No, that one just doesn't have enough sparkle to it_. She rejected one tunic after another.

She finally found one she liked; crimson, sleeveless, beaded, low-cut, but not the lowest…it just seemed…perfect. After she dressed she looked in the mirror and realized why she'd chosen this shirt…_it matched the man's coat…damn_…_too late to change again now_…rang in her head as she heard the alarm sound which meant that she needed to leave to meet Dafydd for dinner. She grabbed a light jacket, closed it over her top, picked up her bag, her case with her stage makeup, and practically ran out the door.

She saw her brother walking toward her on the street just outside their usual Embarcadero dinner place. He looked just the way he always did. Average height, slim and wiry, light brown hair, blue-gray eyes, with a sweet, open face. And his clear tenor blended so well with her smoky alto, but she really wished she could get him to sing more solos. They were sibs, but by adoption, so there was no family resemblance, but they had been looking out for each other for a very long time. Tonight at dinner, she was even less hungry than normal, but he decided it would be best if he didn't comment on anything just yet.

They arrived at the club at seven and signed up for one of their usual slots, which should put them onstage around ten. This was an 'open mic' so the exact time they went on would depend on how many acts signed up, and how many songs the manager allowed each performer. Auron arrived at quarter past eight, and saw 'Mercy' listed on the board next to the stage. He found a table in the second row that afforded him an excellent view, and settled down to wait. During a break between acts, the waiter gave him a hand-written menu. He was pleased to note that this establishment served beer, as the 'coffee' the previous evening had been almost undrinkable. He ordered a beer, and took his time drinking it. He had no need to seek oblivion from a bottle. At the break just before Mercy came out he finally ordered another beer, and a bottle of water for her. He had seen her check the audience before nine; she knew he was there. He smiled slightly to himself. He had also removed his collar, and his glove. He recognized that he couldn't drink with the collar on. He couldn't even admit to himself that he'd taken off the glove solely on the change of touching her hand again.

They went on at about quarter past ten. _A good time for tonight_, Mercy thought. She continued as she walked towards the stage, trying not to look at the audience. W_e've got five songs, which is better than good, considering the number of acts signed up_.

When she went on stage, he was not sure if he was even breathing, or maybe he was just breathing too fast. When she sang he was certain he could hear her heart in her voice, or maybe her soul. _She does this because she loves it. Amazing_. He watched her through each change of mood, pace, emotion as she sang. The first song was a song of love, and pain, so much so it hurt his heart to hear it. The second had a darker beat: primal, sexual. The rhythm of it pounded through his own body in a way that he thought he had forgotten. As she strut across the stage in time with the music, she looked back over her shoulder at the audience, straight at him, he realized that he desired her more than any woman he had ever met, more than any woman he had ever seen in his life. _It has been a long time_, he realized. The tightness in his groin reminded him, _a very long time_.

The air between them was suddenly on fire. She felt something burning, low in her belly. It was all too much, too fast, too soon.

She was grateful that the next two songs were bright, happy songs. There was nothing in them to trouble the emotions, or the senses. Auron was able to tear his eyes away from her, to look into the faces of those around him as they watched Mercy sing. He saw that when she smiled, many in the audience smiled back. _She carries them with her, into the song_, he observed in wonder. There was a small disturbance at the next table, as a newcomer sat down in the midst of a group of friends. Auron saw the man obviously look Mercy over, heard a low whistle, and found himself reaching for the dagger in his boot before he was even aware of it. _Was I intending to rescue her or was I just, what, jealous? It is none of my concern if every man in this room is staring at her_. Just the thought made him swivel his head around. _Admit it, you would like it to be your concern. Yes. No. I don't know!_ He gave up thinking and returned to listening to the music, and watching the singer.

Then, the last song changed everything. It was a song she had written a few years ago. A friend had told her a story, about trying to capture one perfect moment in time, something that was so beautiful that she was sure she would never experience anything like it again in her life, and Mercy had understood the feeling instantly. So, she had tried to put the essence of it into a song, and now she sang it:

So long ago  
Certain time  
Certain place  
You touched my hand  
All the way  
All the way up and down the line  
But if our paths never cross  
Well you know I'm sorry but  
If I live to see the seven wonders  
I'll make a path to the rainbow's end  
I'll never live to match the beauty again  
The rainbow's end  
So it's hard to find  
Someone with that kind of intensity  
You touched my hand I played it cool  
And you reached out your hand for me  
But if our paths never cross  
Well you know I'm sorry but  
If I live to see the seven wonders  
I'll make a path to the rainbow's end  
I'll never live to match the beauty again  
The rainbow's end  
So long ago  
It's a certain time  
It's a certain place  
You touched my hand and you smiled  
All the way back you held out your hand  
If I hope and I pray  
Ooh it might work out someday  
If I live to see the seven wonders  
I'll make a path to the rainbow's end  
I'll never live to match the beauty again  
The rainbow's end  
If I live to see the seven wonders  
I'll make a path to the rainbow's end  
I'll never live to match the beauty again  
If I live to see the seven wonders  
I'll make a path to the rainbow's end  
I'll never live to match the beauty again

Auron heard the words, and felt his system go into a kind of shock. She watched him from the stage. She could see she had touched him, but she didn't know why, or how. She sang to him, now: for him, alone._ How did she know? We saw the seven wonders, in Spira, those that remain to be seen. _Thoughts, images rushed through his mind in a torrent; Braska opening the Lightning Mushroom Rock at Djose Temple…the three of them rushing past the Moonflow, they hadn't waited until nightfall to see the moonlilies…Jecht swimming over the Sunken City, muttering curses…going to the Farplane with Braska when he went to see Jenni…Jecht struck by lightning on the Thunder Plains, and landing on his ass…climbing Gagazet, himself looking up to see if he could catch a glimpse of the fabled Floating Ruins…his first sight of the destruction that was Zanarkand.

_And we made the path to the rainbow's end, or near enough. I never thought to find anything like it, feel anything like this, again. Why here, why now? How did she know?_ All his senses went into overdrive as he watched her, and listened to her sing something that he would never have been able to put into words.

On stage, the song ended, they said good night to the audience. Mercy looked at Dafydd and slid her eyes toward Auron. Dafydd just nodded, he already knew she was going to go talk to the man again.

Auron recovered himself enough to push the chair out from the table with his boot as she walked toward him, and set the water where she could easily reach it once she sat down. As she approached, he had that same illusion again, that he saw her with both eyes, but he just shook it off. She took the chair, and the water, as an invitation to sit, and did so.

"Hello again, Auron."  
"My lady."  
She hoped to keep him talking a little longer this time; she really wanted to know more about him, to find out why he affected her so much.  
"Why do you do this?" he asked abruptly, as he gestured toward the stage.  
"Because I love it," she replied, confirming his earlier guess. "Because my soul needs it," she expanded. "I need the music, and the audience, in order to be truly whole." She sipped the water. "My turn. What made you come in last night? I've never seen you before, and I've been doing this a long time. You new around here?"  
"I've been in Zanarkand for five years. I came in because I heard your voice." He paused for several seconds, uncertain how to proceed. She looked into his face, knowing he was struggling to say something further, waiting patiently, for her, for the rest of it. "I've never heard anything so beautiful," he finally finished.  
Color rose in her cheeks. He could see it even through the face paint she wore. Her "thank you" was barely audible. Even after all these years, she found such direct, personal praise for her singing difficult to hear.

Just then the manager came on stage to start introducing the next act. Auron started to ask her another question, and someone at the next table began shushing him. He glared and they glared back. _Just great_, Mercy thought, _a friend of the next act…nothing ventured and all that_.  
She leaned forward so she could speak very softly. Auron leaned in, trying to look at her face and not her breasts, now even more tantalizingly displayed than they had been a few seconds ago. She took a deep breath, gathering her courage. _This is getting painful_, he thought. "Do you want to go someplace else, where we can talk?" she asked softly.  
Her eyes met his. She wasn't suggesting anything more than talk, but he could see that she wanted it very much. He found that he was unwilling to walk away from her. "Sure," he answered. They both stood. He tucked his collar and glove into his belt, and she led him into the hall.  
"Please wait here," she said at the door of the 'Green Room'. "I need to take off the face-paint, and get my stuff, five minutes, okay?" Auron nodded and leaned his shoulder against the wall, exhibiting little patience, wondering how long five minutes really meant.

Inside Mercy was talking fast to Dafydd, while she stood at the tiny mirror/sink combo and deftly removed her stage makeup. "He might as well see me as I really am," she was saying.  
"You still look plenty good. Quit putting yourself down, girl. He came back, didn't he?"  
"Yeah, he did," she replied, but with a bit of uncertainty in her voice.  
"Where you taking him, sis?" He was just looking out for her, even if she was supposed to be the 'big sister'.  
"Heaven's Gate," she answered.  
"Good choice, nice little tables for talking, but still plenty public if it needs to be. Make sure he walks you home." He was insistent now, all brotherly concern.  
"Yes, little brother." She hugged him quickly, then walked quickly from the room, crossing her fingers that Auron was still waiting for her. He was.  
Five minutes really meant five minutes, Auron discovered. He also learned instantly that he liked her face much better without the paint. Her skin was still a little pink from the scrubbing, but he preferred the way she really looked. Her lips looked fuller, rosier, even more kissable without the stage makeup. Several seconds passed, as he continued to study her face. His fingers twitched, he wanted to touch her cheek, to see if her skin was as soft as thought it must be. "Well, do I pass inspection?" she asked nervously.  
"Sorry, I hadn't realized I was staring."  
"Just answer the question," she shot back, impatient now for his answer.  
"Yes."

Their eyes met for a moment that went on much too long. The eye contact was suddenly too intimate, and the world began to narrow to just the two of them. A loud noise from the next room brought them to their senses. "Where are we going?" he managed to ask.

"Heaven's Gate, a club I know, not too far from here. We can talk there, and get something decent to drink."

He nodded in agreement. He had no idea where the place was, either in the abstract or relative to where they were now, and he didn't care. "Lead the way."

She tried to lead. He clearly wasn't used to following, or walking next to someone more than half a foot shorter than he was. She needed almost two strides to his one, _damn him anyway_. She tried asking questions as a way of keeping him beside her.

"Where are you from, originally?"  
"I grew up in Luca, but then I lived in Bevelle for several years." _Stick as close to the truth as possible, easier to keep the story straight_, marched through his head.

Unfortunately, when he was thinking to himself, he forgot to think about how fast he walked. The first time, the street wasn't crowded, so when he got ahead of her, instead of running after him…_too undignified, and I just don't like the image…s_he called out to him, "Auron, wait up." He paused, and waited for her to walk up to him at her normal pace. They began strolling toward Heaven's Gate again.

"Why did you come to Zanarkand?"  
"I promised a friend I would look out for his son. The boy is here."  
"Your friend is dead?"  
"I lost him five years ago." Again, the truth, letting her assumptions fill in the missing pieces with untruth, so he did not have to actually lie to this woman. He couldn't tell her all of it, at least not yet, but could not make himself lie to her either. He remembered Jecht extracting that damned promise, and wondering at the time how in the hell he was going to keep it. As he tried to distance himself from the memory, he strode too rapidly, and lost her again. Suddenly, he was alone, and there was a sea of people behind him, on the cross way going in a different direction. Mercy's shorter form was lost in the crowd. He stood completely still, frozen in sudden panic.

"Damn, damn, damn, damn, DAMN!" _Cursing to myself isn't going to help the situation any._ She turned in a circle, trying to find his taller figure. "The damn fool idiot doesn't even know where we're going." _Talking to myself won't help either_. She spotted him, standing still, with a very worried frown marring his handsome features. _Well, at least he has enough sense to realize when he's made a mistake. That's a point in his favor. _She hated it when a man couldn't admit when he was wrong.

Auron saw the 'dip' in the swirling current of humanity that was still, then saw it heading in his direction. His knees buckled slightly when he realized that he had found her again.

Mercy forced her way out of the edge of the milling crowd, and made her way over to the still motionless Auron. _I have an idea, but I need to get in pretty close to try it_. She kept her gaze fixed on his face as she stalked towards him. _Damn, he's tall. I'm not sure I want him looming over me when I do this_. She modified her trajectory slightly, to bring her into a position where she was standing very close to Auron on one side; her left near his right; but with her body angled apart. _If this turns out to be a complete failure, I think I want to be able to start walking away without even taking the time to turn around_.

Auron observed her with fascination as she staked out a position at his side. _She is…too close. If she were a man, I would have to back away now, or fight. But she is not, so I may stand here and wonder why she is doing this. If I move…if she sways…if I reach for her…we will… touch_. He could feel the heat of her body all along his right side, she stood barely inches away.

Mercy was angry, and she was afraid. She was using the anger to cover her fear, and to push herself into challenging him. Auron read that in her face; he could feel the emotions rolling off of her in waves.

Mercy stared up at Auron, trying to read his expression. _I wish I could just tear those glasses off his face!_ Already exasperated, she started on him, "Damn you. You don't even know how to get where we're going, do you?" She didn't even wait for an answer; she just braced herself and rocked her whole left side into his right, from shoulder to hip. _Whoa, he is solid muscle under that coat! Hitting him is like trying to move a mountain_.

She was angry, and she put more force behind the blow than she intended, or, she was just stronger than she looked. Either way, he wasn't braced and the energy of her 'attack' knocked him back on his heels for a moment.

He caught her scent, and it rushed through him like a hard wave; he was instantly aroused. He looked down into her face, and found his gaze diverted to her breasts, outlined by the deep vee of her shirt. He swallowed convulsively, unconsciously moving his feet apart and trying desperately to wrench his stare back up to her eyes, grateful for the dark lenses. He licked his lips involuntarily.

_Damn stupid glasses, what is he thinking?_ Then she saw his jaw clench. _Wait, I think I recognize that look_. Her eyes flicked down, then up again. _Oh yeah, I do know that look_. The corners of her mouth turned up wickedly, and her tongue traced her upper lip.

His response was an intake of breath so sharp, it sounded like a hiss. He breathed in her scent again, a woodsy tang, fresh rain and wildflowers. _There had been a clearing in the woods outside Bevelle, where I used to go whenever I needed to think, or just to get away from the barracks. It was the only place in Bevelle I ever felt at peace... until I met Braska_. _During the spring and summer, after it rained, the clearing smelled…just like she does, right now._ _Damn, I don't even think it's perfume, it's just soap and water…and her. I certainly don't feel peaceful now. What the hell am I getting myself into? Why?_

She looked up into his face, watched as his expression changed. _He almost looked lost there for a minute. I wonder what that was about? Why do I care? Didn't I swear off men six years ago? I sure swore at them enough._ She smiled ruefully at herself. _I guess that was then, and this is now._

Conflicting impulses made him flex his hands in frustration. He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her, to pay her back for nearly knocking him down. He had an impulse to grab her and kiss her. He'd only wanted to do that since the first minute he saw her. A darker, wilder impulse made him think of throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her back to his apartment. That, he'd only been thinking of since the second minute. But his strongest urge was to pull her into his arms and hold her, until he had reassured himself that he hadn't lost her in that crowd. He looked down, mentally measuring her height, certain he owned several katanas that stood taller than she did.__

"Look, either you're too tall, or I'm too short. I am not running after you because you've forgotten that," Mercy exclaimed. _How would I find him if I lost him tonight? Search the Hall of Records…every man named Auron born about the right time…Lords and Ladies…I'd probably do it if I had to. Guess I'd better try to hold onto him now. Let's see if he's still off-balance enough…_

She reached out and caught his hand in hers, as had been her intent from the beginning of this 'discussion'. But his palm against hers was causing signal fires to flare over her entire body, a reaction she had not planned on. Every single part of her being came screaming to life, all at once. _I don't know whether to laugh, cry, or scream. This one's trouble. They're all trouble. No need to do anything yet, just think about it. Meantime, isn't it good to be alive again?_

Aloud, she said, "I can keep you from wandering off this way," raising their linked hands slightly. His hand had automatically folded itself around hers, without any conscious thought on his part.

His conscious thought followed immediately after. _This feels…right, but I should not allow it to continue. I should not become involved with this woman, or with any woman. Last night, I left. But I am here tonight, more drawn than before. Maybe I have been alone for too long. I am separated from everyone and everything I ever knew, and I just want…someone to be close to. Or am I just rationalizing?_ The simple act of placing her hand in his aroused more of his emotions than he thought he still possessed. He felt that he should push her away, but…he wanted to draw her closer. Her skin against his made all his nerve endings snap into complete life. Whatever his mind thought, his body clearly had decided he wasn't dead, not in any way that mattered. He wanted to hold her, but he felt he shouldn't, so he compromised. He switched the angle of their linked hands, so that instead of simply crossing palms, now their fingers were interlaced. The feeling was doubly intimate. He had to swallow hard, twice, before he trusted himself to make any verbal response, and his voice was still huskier than normal. "Better this way," was all he managed to say. Whether in response to his voice, his words, or his touch, she felt her whole body respond by turning into liquid.

….Spira…Thunder Plains

The fire had gone out, the room had grown dark. Lightning struck near the Agency, and the light flashed through the bare room. _It had felt just like that, when she took my hand. Like lightning, like a shock to my soul. Like being alive._

End Chapter Four


	5. Diamonds and Rust

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The title of this chapter is from a song written and performed by Joan Baez.

* * *

Auron didn't bother to relight the fire. He didn't reach for the jug. He wasn't even deceiving himself anymore. He just lay back in the narrow bed, watched the lightning flash across the sky through the window, and remembered Mercy's face as she began to tell him her story that night in Zanarkand.

…Zanarkand…five years ago

They didn't talk much the rest of the way to Heaven's Gate. The silence was…comfortable. He liked it that she didn't need to chatter to fill the quiet. So many women seemed to find it necessary to fill every moment with unnecessary babble. And it was such a relief from the boy's incessant verbal prattle.

When they reached the club, they were lucky enough to find a quiet table in one of the sphere-less rooms, somewhere they could talk with few interruptions. The miniscule tables were made for intimate conversations, necessitating that they sit as much next to as across from each other. Mercy sat to Auron's right. She wanted his free hand to be within easy reach if she needed to make a point. She kept wondering if there was something wrong with his left arm, because of the way he carried it, using his coat as though it were a sling. She assumed she would find out eventually. The table was so small; she had to be careful not to step on his boots when they sat down.

The waitress took their orders, brought their drinks, and left. By some unspoken agreement, she and Auron waited until after the drinks were delivered to begin any serious conversation.  
"What happened to your friend? The one whose son you're watching out for?" One thing was immediately clear. Neither of them seemed to be much good at making small talk. It was something they had in common.  
"Three of us went on a journey from Bevelle. It's a long story, too complicated to explain now…I'm sorry. Neither of them made it. I…barely did." Auron found himself blinking rapidly, as a phantom pain stabbed through his right eye. _Braska…my lord…I wish…you had listened to me. Jecht…you arrogant bastard…I even miss you. _Five years had passed. His grief was as fresh as though it were yesterday.  
His pain was impossible to ignore, or resist. "No, I'm sorry," she soothed, as she laid her hand over his. The touch eased his wounds, more than he thought possible. He felt warmth spreading from her hand to his.  
He asked her the questions that had been puzzling him since the evening before. "Where do the songs come from? How do you decide what to sing?"  
"That's not fair. That's two questions." She was laughing, just a little, but stopped when she saw he was truly serious. "People write the songs. I've written some. I wrote 'Seven Wonders', the last song we did tonight. Some are based on my own experience, some, I get from things people tell me, or that I've heard or read about that I'm able to translate into music. 'Seven Wonders' is like that. Sometimes, in life, you experience something, just for a minute maybe, that is so uniquely beautiful, or wonderful, or both, that you just know, no matter what else you do, no matter how miraculous it might be, it will never match that one perfect moment. I wanted to capture that feeling, so, I tried to put it into that song."  
Auron just nodded. It seemed that she did understand.  
"As for how we choose, Dafydd and I meet for dinner on the nights we perform, and discuss what we're going to play. We always pick six songs, because that's the most we ever get to do."  
"How long have you and your 'friend' been performing together?"  
Mercy was surprised to see, and hear, jealousy in the question. _Well, isn't that interesting_.

"Dafydd and I have been performing together since we were in our teens. He's my brother. Adopted, but still my brother." Auron tried to hide it, but he had been on edge when he asked that question, and the tension just flowed away as soon as she said the word 'brother'. None came back at the word 'adopted', either. "I lost my parents just before I turned eighteen. Dafydd's parents are still living, but he and they, are…well…estranged from one another. For a long time, we were all alone in the world. In a lot of ways, we raised each other, I guess."

There was pain there, more than she was ready to tell him at the moment. Now it was his turn to offer her comfort. He slid his hand from under hers and placed his on top, hooking his thumb under her palm. She stared out into the middle distance, seeing only the past. He rubbed his thumb against her palm, bringing her back to the present, back to him. She returned to look at their hands, clasped on the table. It had been a long time since anyone comforted her.

After a minute or two of silence, Auron started to ask another question, but Mercy held up a hand to stop him. "Wait, I get a turn now," smiling at him to take any sting from her words. "Besides watching over your friend's boy, I assume he still is a boy, what do you do with yourself?"  
"Tidus is twelve now, and I run a dojo at the edge of the warehouse district. I live above it. That reminds me. Let me see your hands." It was not exactly a request. Something in his voice made it more like something between a request and an order.  
_This will be interesting_, she thought, with some trepidation. _Most men are bothered by my 'hobby'. That's what they usually call it_. _Or damned hobby. Or damned stupid hobby.  
_He released her left hand, and she placed both hands, palms up, on the table. He shrugged his left arm out of the sling of his coat, so he could use both hands to examine hers. She got the answer to her question about whether or not anything was the matter with his left arm. The answer was a definite 'no'. She just stared. Her pupils dilated, her breathing quickened, and her pulse started going double time, if that was possible. She was suddenly grateful for the beads on her shirt, which hopefully concealed the fact that her nipples must be standing at attention. _If the rest of him matched the left arm and shoulder he'd just revealed…_her throat had gone dry, but other parts certainly hadn't. _Oh my goodness_.  
He saw her eyes change, the rise and fall of her breasts. His hands covered both of hers, his heart started to pound, and he found himself suddenly grateful for the concealment the table offered. Her knee pressed into his thigh. Their hands clasped on the table. The world began to drop away, as it had earlier, and reduce itself to just the two of them.  
  
The bright chirp of the waitress broke the spell. "Anything else I can get for either of you?"  
Auron's bark of "No!" sent her running, but the damage was done. The world was back, for the present.  
He removed his dark glasses, in theory to look at her hands more closely. _She might as well see what there is to see_, he decided.  
His glasses slid down his nose so often, she had already seen the scar, just not exactly all of it at once. _He must have been pretty before he got that, but then, I never did like pretty men_. All she said aloud was "I bet that hurt something awful when you got it."  
"It did. I almost didn't make it." She gripped one of his hands, in silent sympathy.  
"Back to the matter at hand," he smiled slightly at his own pun. "Your hands."  
"Yes."  
"There's a pattern of calluses, here, here, and here." He rubbed each spot lightly with an index finger, while cupping the hand in question with one of his own. "I have a similar pattern myself, but yours are not as deep, or as hard." He used one hand to help her feel his hands, but it was clear that she already knew where to look. The intimate contact became more charged by the second. "Mine are from daily sword practice. Yours?"  
"Three times a week." She waited for his reaction. _This is usually where they cut and run, no pun intended_.  
"Why?"

Some instinct led her to trust him, so she decided to tell him the whole story. She closed her eyes for a second, to organize her thoughts, and then began, "My parents didn't adopt Dafydd…I did. After I turned eighteen, just before I graduated from Preparatory School, I went to a program set up by the Musicians' Guild for aspiring members to meet each other, and I met Dafydd there. He was thirteen. I was looking for a partner, and a friend, and he was looking for someone to hide behind. We hit it off, applied for our Guild memberships, and started street busking at the summerfaires." She paused, and took a sip from her drink.

"We got to be close. Close enough that he confided in me. Dafydd is homosexual. It's not a secret, and, well, it's just not a big deal anymore. But, at thirteen, it was still something he was coming to terms with. It made our friendship easier, since he was too young for me, and I was of absolutely no interest to him. But his sexual orientation became the last and worst of a long list of reasons why his dad abused him, and the beatings were getting worse. It took me a while to notice the bruises, since Daf always wore long sleeves and long pants, but as the summer got hotter, I saw the marks, and he finally told me." Her eyes flicked up to Auron's face for a moment, then back down to the tabletop. She took a deep breath, then let it out, slowly. The next parts were always the hardest to remember.

Auron watched her struggle to find the words to go on. _This is her story. I want to hear her tell it_. He let out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding when she finally continued.

"One night, his dad went too far, so far that his mom finally stepped in long enough for Daf to run to his room and lock the door. He climbed out the window with his guitar and a backpack, and came to my place in the middle of the night. I had to fight his dad in court, but I adopted Daf. I suppose, legally, he's my son, but that's just too weird, so we say we're brother and sister. It's simpler." She allowed herself a tiny smile at the thought of trying to introduce Dafydd as her son, even once.

"After we started the whole court thing, I decided that we had to learn to defend ourselves. I mean, you've seen Dafydd. Imagine him at thirteen. His dad had abused him for years. The man was not quite as tall as you are, but heavier, easily able to beat up two kids, especially back then. He made lots of threats, and I was plenty scared. I thought we needed to have enough of a chance for one of us to be able to hold on while the other ran for help. So, we both took self-defense and martial arts classes. In the end, Dafydd's father attacked him, alone, in our apartment, when Daf was fifteen. Daf actually beat him up, tied him up with the curtains, and called the police to come and get him. His dad went to prison. We've never seen him since." She sighed. She was relieved at how it had turned out, and was grateful that the bastard had never tried to get back into Daf's life.

"I had inherited a pair of swords from my grandmother, my father's mother, Rose. They have been passed down through several generations. Technically, I know they are not both swords. I don't have the katana. I have the short sword, the wakizashi, and the long dagger, the tanto. Some other relative, long ago, must have inherited the katana, but these suit me well enough. The katana proportioned to match these two blades must have been about as long as I am tall, including the hilt. I could never properly handle such a weapon." She shook her head at the memory.

Auron picked up her hand, and laced her fingers with his. Now that he knew for certain to search he could find traces of the marks that the swords had left, as his thumb traveled around the edge of her hand, and his long fingers held her palm against his. He could feel the small nicks that she must have received before she learned how to handle the blades properly, the long thin lines that had healed cleanly where she must have warded off a cut with the edge of her hand, or where she had been sliced by a sharp edge until she learned better care.

"Dafydd thought if his father came, I could just use the swords. I told him that unless I knew how to use the swords, it would be foolish to hand an enemy an even more deadly weapon. So I decided that if I was going to keep Grandma Rose's swords, I needed to learn to use them. It took me years to learn, but eventually I did. I continue to train, both unarmed and with the swords. If I ever stop training, I will give the swords to someone who knows how to use them. It wouldn't be right to keep them under those circumstances."

Auron held her hand through the whole story. His thumb traced patterns in her palm, over and over, reminding her that he was there, that he was listening, trying to take away a little of the pain, if she would let him. He was more amazed by her courage with every second. _She has been a guardian, too, in her way_.

She returned to the present. It had been a very long time since she had told anyone this story. He was still there, and, he was still holding her hand. He was even still trying to comfort her. It was her turn to be amazed. _This one was most definitely not running._

He continued to hold her hand, while taking a drink with the other. His throat was dry again. _It might be a good idea to change the subject, before this becomes even more serious_. _She might want a chance to recover_. "May I ask you another question?" He paused "Different topic."  
"Yes. Might be a good thing, about now." _Maybe we can find a less sensitive subject this time?  
_"Is singing what you do with yourself, as you asked me earlier?" a slight smile on his face.

"No, unfortunately not. I make some money songwriting, not enough to live comfortably. You don't get paid to sing at open mics, either. We do it for the love of it. It is possible to get paid to perform, but we're not quite that good, or maybe we've never been brave enough to try. I have, what is politely referred to in the music business, as a day job". She smiled ruefully, because it was a very old joke, even if he didn't get it. "I am a senior administrator in the City Archives and Hall of Records. I've worked there a rather long time." _No, we found a more sensitive subject. It figures_.

Something in her expression made him suddenly wary, as though he stepped into the middle of a horde of invisible fiends. He knew something was wrong, but he didn't know what. Whatever it was, it was bothering the hell out of her. He could feel her hand tense, and her eyes had turned away from his face. _What the hell was the matter with this topic?_

He took a small sip of the beer. He was parched again, and some instinct was telling him to go carefully, or he would lose this battle right here, whatever the battle was. "How long is a long time?" he queried softly. A shot in the dark, at the last thing she had said.

She took a swallow of her drink. Her throat was a desert. She stared at the tabletop, at their linked hands. _Maybe it would be better if we got this one over with now, too_. She spoke quickly, almost too fast for him to follow. "I started working at the Archives the summer after I graduated prep school. I was eighteen. I worked there four years while I earned my Archivist's Degree, part-time during the school year, full-time in the summer. I took a year off school and worked full time to save some money and decide what to specialize in. I worked four more years part and full time while I earned my Master's Degree. I finished that thirteen years ago. I've worked there ever since, rising through the ranks to my present position." She finished in a rush, then she looked up to meet his gaze. "And, in case you haven't done the math yet, I'm forty years old, Auron. I know I'm older than you are, I just don't know how much."

_So that's what's bothering her. What does it matter?_ Aloud, "How can you be so certain?" Her free hand came up, and her index finger traced the firm line of his jaw.  
"That," she breathed, "is what makes me certain." His eye closed, savoring the touch of her fingertip on his face. _Bliss…What the hell is she saying?  
_He attempted to gather his thoughts. "What do you mean?" he asked, his eye still half-lidded. _She is so close…_

She smiled sadly. "Just the march of time. Your skin is very tight over your jaw, here." Again, he felt her fingertip on his skin. "Men lose that in their early thirties at the latest. So I know that you're younger than I am, possibly enough to matter." Patience was not one of her virtues. "Does it matter?" she asked outright.

His left hand caressed her cheek, to make sure she continued to meet his gaze when he spoke. Her skin was so soft. His thumb stroked her chin for a minute, just to touch a little more of it. "I am thirty. And no, it doesn't matter a damn." She couldn't speak, her throat was too dry, and suddenly, her heart was too full. Her right hand rose, and spread itself over his unmarred cheek. They were beginning to lose themselves in each other. And, unconsciously, they were leaning towards each other across the table.

The waitress spotted them and decided that she needed to stop this 'Right Now'. If they were headed the way it looked like they were headed, they should have rented a privacy booth! "Is there anything else I can get you?"  
"Yes," Auron intoned menacingly, "some privacy." Mercy squeezed his hand. The waitress had just switched from perky to frightened.  
"Just the check." Mercy thought it best if they left, quickly, before the little fluff-head called the manager and had them thrown out. Auron paid the bill, and they went out into the night.  
  
"In case you're wondering, yes, they are trained to interrupt at the worst possible moment." Mercy laughed at the consternation on Auron's face, until he started laughing, too. They were standing outside the club, uncertain what to do next. Across the plaza, the clock showed it was after two in the morning.  
"I should probably see you home," he offered reluctantly.  
"Yes, you probably should," she agreed, equally reluctant. "This way." She pointed at one of the streets fanning out from the intersection. He immediately laced the fingers of his right hand with her left. "So we don't lose each other on the way," he explained. She squeezed his hand by way of consent.  
They walked slowly, unwilling to hasten the parting at the end. "Why does the singing group have your name?" He was just curious. And it was curious.  
"Actually, it's the other way around, sort of. My legal name is Mercianne. I didn't have a nickname growing up. When we started performing together, we needed a "stage name'. We were arguing somewhere, a sandwich shop, I think, and some grandmother at the next table finally said, 'Mercy, mercy, can't you two children make up your minds?' and that, as they say, is that. Over time, people started calling me 'Mercy' and I got used to it, or I got tired of correcting them, so it stuck."

"Why a dojo?" she asked in return.  
"It's what I know how to do, more or less," he replied, sounding slightly uncertain.  
"What do you mean, more or less?" she responded, picking up the hesitation in his voice.  
"I've never been the teacher before, it is a different…perspective."  
"I'll just bet it is."

"We're here," she announced, in front of one of Zanarkand's many tall buildings. He tightened his grip on her hand for a moment. "When do you perform again? Where?"  
"The Blitz Ace Club, near the Stadium, four nights from now, Thirdnight, between eight and eleven."  
Her mind raced_._ _Think girl, think. You need to do something to send this man off properly. He's too damn tall to kiss on the cheek. What? What? In the club, when you touched his face, he looked blissed out, do that again, it's less obvious and easy to reach. Okay, here goes…_

She raised her right hand to his cheek. This time, she gently tucked some stray hair away before her hand settled against his skin. Even the stubble of his beard felt good under her palm. Her thumb stroked his face. His eye closed, the dark lashes long and thick against his cheeks. He savored the moment, then attempted to gather the threads of self-control that were slipping away. He knew he already felt too much. _I should leave before I do something seriously stupid_. He finally managed to take a deep breath, and opened his eye.  
Once he was looking back at her, she spoke. "Good night, Auron." Her voice was a throaty purr.

He didn't move a step, but somehow, he felt himself being drawn closer. His left hand rose from his side to gently hold her wrist and keep her hand in place against his face. He turned his head and moved so he could press his lips into her palm and watch her expression as he did. He intended it to be a chaste kiss, but the attraction between them was already too strong. There was a promise in the kiss instead. She felt the tip of his tongue against her palm, not just his mouth. Her eyes went wide, dark. _Maybe_, she thought, _but too soon_.

He was not sure he would be able to walk away if he stayed much longer, it would be difficult enough at this moment.  
Reluctantly, Auron let go of her hands, said, "Good night, my lady," and strode alone into the night. Mercy entered her building, and her apartment, equally alone.

…Spira…Thunder Plains

Alone with his memories, dawn; such as it was on the Thunder Plains, found Auron awake, and bitter. _She was supposed to reach the Farplane. What went wrong? Now, all I have left are memories. And regrets_.

End Chapter Five


	6. Over My Head

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The song "Over My Head" was written by Christine McVie, performed by Fleetwood Mac, "You Have to Hurt" was written by Frank Musker and Dominic King, performed by Carly Simon, and "Diamonds and Rust" was written and performed by Joan Baez, and I don't own them, either.

* * *

Between Yuna's announcement, and Rikku's whining, no one wanted to camp on the Thunder Plains, so they pushed on to reach the edge of the Macalania Woods, camping for the night just inside. The transition areas made good campgrounds, the fiends were less numerous, and it was possible to camp with only one guard per shift in the night. As usual the guard shifts are arranged so that Auron and Kimahri had the second and third shifts, as they were less affected by the broken night's sleep than the others. After two nights without sleep, even Auron was weary. He rested against a tree, not even intending to close his eye, but slept deeply during the first watch of the night. His own watch was uneventful, and he woke Kimahri for the third shift, to report that it had been a quiet night. He laid down in his bedroll after Kimahri took up the watch, but the earlier rest and some hours of guard duty had left him too alert for easy slumber. Lying awake, staring at the canopy of trees, he knew that he no longer needed the excuse of the drink to lower the barrier to his memories, that he was now willing to face the pain at the end, if it meant he could relive the sweetness of the journey. 

…Zanarkand…Five years ago

In memory, Auron thought that those might have been some of the longest days he had ever endured, not helped by the fact that he was conscious for most of the time. Sleep eluded him, and when he did catch it, he dreamed of her. Awake, he alternately berated himself for even considering any further involvement, and counting down the time until he saw her again. _What could I possibly have to offer this woman? I am no longer even alive. She is so very alive. So beautiful. So desirable. I want her. I want to pursue this, to pursue her. I should not. How long is it until…_

The night before Mercy's next performance, he finally fell into a deep sleep, and had a very unusual dream, if it truly was a dream. In the dream, he heard a familiar voice, but one he couldn't quite recognize. The same voice he had heard the night he had met her. The voice spoke out of the darkness, telling him, "Guardian, in five years, her 'world' will be destroyed by Sin, and many of the people in it will die, possibly including your lady. Guardian, will your status matter in the face of so much destruction? Let the lady choose."

Auron woke with his heart pounding. _I know that voice._ _Who is it? Damn!_ More awake, he considered the words instead of the origin. _The speaker is right. In five years, Sin will return. Jecht will be back to take the boy to Spira. Take me, too, to keep the boy safe a while longer. Jecht's next visit will wreck havoc on this Zanarkand, killing many. It did not have to, but I know it will. Jecht will need to reach Tidus inside the city. And, by then, he will no longer have enough control to prevent Sin from ruining the city and killing many of its citizens in the process. I know the voice was right about Mercy, too. This isn't about a lifetime; this is about five years, no more, whatever I might wish for, for her. Life as she knows it will end when Sin comes, even if she survives the destruction. I could walk away from her, now, and never know if it was a better choice for her, or if she spent the next five years alone, and then didn't survive. Or, if she would meet someone else tomorrow, if I walked away now. But my gut burns at the thought of either road. I can't decide which is worse. Regret walks down either path. Better to continue to see her, be with her. It's what I want, in any case. But then I will have to find a way to tell her everything, and let her choose_. He saw the clock on the wall. _Four in the morning. I might as well get a little more sleep. I will see her tonight. To hell with everything else._

Her week wasn't any better, or any faster. She was busy, but it didn't keep her from thinking about Auron, wondering what was happening to her. What was happening between them. Secondnight, as usual, she went to Daf's place so they could practice their music. He wanted to know what happened when she and Auron left the club together. She told her brother the abridged version of events, but he could see that she was keyed up, alive again. He thought that it was good for her, even if she might get hurt in the end. But he hoped that things might work out for her this time. Although Dafydd was not happy to discover that Auron left her outside the building that night. He thought that if the man was really interested he should take better care of her than that.Her brother would just have to make sure of it.

After their usual pre-concert dinner and wrangle about a play list, she and Daf got to the club and signed up for a slot, one that should have them onstage around half past nine. Mercy had to change in a curtained booth in the Green Room and get a stage-face on. At a little after eight, she came out to look over the audience. _Yes!_ Auron, as seemed usual, had found a second row table. She grinned impishly at him. His lips quirked up slightly in response, as though he were suppressing a smirk. She decided to duck back inside the Green Room before she made a complete ass of herself.

She and Daf were onstage at a little after half past nine. The opening song was 'Over my head'. As she sang, "I'm over my head, but it sure feels nice," he thought, _well, that's only fair. I don't have much experience at this, whatever this is turning out to be. Casual encounters, yes. This, no. We are both in over our heads, it seems._

The second number was about an older woman resisting the impulse to give advice about love to a younger one, but the chorus meant something more when he heard her sing it:

You have to hurt - to understand  
You have to get by the best you can  
Until you hurt - until you cry  
You won't know about love  
And the reason why  
You have to hurt

She'd been hurt, he could see it on her face, hear it in her voice as she sang the words, and it was clear that she understood just how much life could hurt, not just love. But she seemed to be opening herself be hurt again. He felt a sense of connection, that here was a woman who might understand some of what he had experienced, the loss, the pain. _Maybe it is time_.

She was trying to tell him something, in the music. It was why she had chosen those particular songs for tonight. She was in over her head, and she knew it. _It would be safer to back away now. But safe didn't set your heart on fire, did it?_

One last time, she sang for the specters of her own past.

I'll be damned, here comes your ghost again  
But that's not unusual  
It's just that the moon is full  
And you decided to call

She let the memory come; walking into Tomas' apartment to surprise him one afternoon six years ago, and discovering herself in the midst of a cliché, her lover in the arms of another woman. She had walked away, and never looked back. And hadn't bothered to look at another man, until Auron walked into that coffeehouse five nights ago.

And if you're offering me diamonds and rust, I've already paid  
But we both know what memories can bring  
They bring diamonds and rust  
Yes we both know what memories can bring  
They bring diamonds and rust

Mercy looked at Auron now and thought, _but like the song said, I've already paid. I know this man might break my heart. It's a risk. But…maybe it's time for me to take it_.

There were two more songs to go now. She saw Auron write something on a napkin, then he walked up and handed it to her. She held it between her fingers and waited for a Dafydd's guitar solo to read it. "Please sing Seven Wonders, Auron," was written on the scrap. _I'd better get an explanation later_, she thought. She picked up the end of the song, showed Daf the paper while he adjusted the tuning on his guitar for the last number. He shrugged, looked over at the machine that did the back up instrumentals and nodded. They could do the song if she wanted. She nodded back, and moved to center stage and announced, "We'll close with Seven Wonders." Auron mouthed the words "Thank you" to her silently, as she stuck the paper into a tiny pocket in her waistband. _I'm going to keep the damn thing, I just know it._

After they finished the song, they said goodnight to the audience and left the stage. She went straight to Auron's table. The extra chair was out and the water was waiting. As soon as she had taken some of the water, he asked her "Do you want to leave?"  
"Yes, please. Just let me get my stuff." She was as eager to get out of there as he was.  
This time, while she scrubbed her face, Dafydd stepped out into the hall to confront the larger man. He started in on Auron with no preamble. "Don't you dare leave her outside the building this time, do you hear? Take her to her own door from now on." Properly chastised by the man's obvious care for his sister, Auron replied, "It won't happen again."  
Mercy stepped out into something that looked like it was about to get ugly. "Excuse me, do you two even know each other?" she began, standing braced, with her hands on her hips, intending to either start, or stop, a fight.  
Dafydd, now somewhat sheepish, responded, "I don't believe we've been introduced, now that you mention it," which allowed the air to clear.  
Mercy made the introductions, and the two men shook hands with something more like respect than challenge. _At least it's progress_, she thought. "Daf," she started to say.  
"I know, I know, take your stuff home with me and bring it to dinner next time. Sure, Sis, no problem."  
"Thanks, Daf."  
To Auron, Dafydd made one last shot, "Remember what you said."  
"Yes," Auron replied respectfully.

Mercy naturally fell in on Auron's right as they walked away. Just as naturally, he laced his fingers with hers. "What was that all about?" she queried.  
"Your brother was reminding me that I was remiss in not seeing you to your own door the other night. He was correct. I apologize."  
She smiled up at him. "Then see to it that it doesn't happen again."  
His grin back had a wicked gleam that sent her heart racing. " I assure you, my lady, it will never happen again." He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, causing flickers of heat to shoot up her arm.

They went to a neighborhood place she knew, on a direct line from the stadium club to her apartment. She needed the liquid on her parched throat, but the place was a little too crowded for any serious conversation. She did not want to ask any of the questions that were troubling her mind in this very public place. There were just too many potential listeners.

Auron was in a quandary; he wanted to tell her more about himself, but how? His Spira didn't quite match her Zanarkand, and she would catch that, quicker than most, and sooner rather than later if he said too much. He was not a good liar in any case. The best he could do was lie by omission, or misdirection. Going too far down either path would cause trouble later.

Until they finished their drinks, they settled for discussing their current lives, a safe topic for this place. It made them blend in with the crowd, in fact, as most people were talking about their jobs. "You implied that teaching was a lot different from what you thought it would be, or did I misunderstand?"

He was thoughtful, trying to put his feelings into words. "It is…different. I have been training since I was…very young. It came easily to me. I had sometimes trained others, but always others like myself. I had never taught classes before, especially large classes of ten or twenty students, nor have I ever taught reluctant students, or…children. It requires a great deal of…patience…something I sadly lack."

"Which are the easiest to teach?"

"The adult students, like yourself. The ones who are there because they are truly interested, who really want to learn what I have to give them. Also, the classes where the parents attend and learn with their children, where the parent provides a great deal of the discipline, and I need only teach the skills, if the child, and the parent, are both willing to learn. And if the child turns out to be ill suited to the training, the parent is already aware. Few explanations are required. If the child is suited, it can be a pleasure to train them, or at least not a burden.

"Which are the most difficult?"

He smiled ruefully. "The little ones are the hardest. And, unfortunately, they are the largest classes as well. They are sent by their parents, whether the child wishes to be there or not. Some are interested, or become interested, but most are not, and do not. And many of them are too immature for even the most basic of the lessons, or are discipline problems for other reasons." He stopped talking for several moments. Mercy put her hand over his, encouraging him to continue. "I find the little ones hard to discipline." He removed his dark glasses, laid them on the table. "They find me frightening…But I must always have some of these classes to provide students for the more advanced classes, and because they are the most popular, and…I need to pay the rent. At least, when the eighteen year olds need to be disciplined, I do not feel guilty if I intimidate them…with those, sometimes, it is the only weapon I have." He looked down at the table, a sad expression on his face. She brought her hand up, smoothed a stray hair away, touched his cheek. He turned his face towards hers, as she brushed her thumb against the corner of his mouth. He smiled at her now, unable to resist the warmth of her caress.

_Enough of this_, he thought. "What about your 'day job'?" he asked.

"Ick," was her first response, basically a rude noise. "One of life's little ironies. Now that I have the position I always wanted, or close to it, I don't actually get to do any of the things that caused me to go into the Archives in the first place. I wanted to do historic research, and I wanted to help other people with their research. I really enjoy working with the documents people give us, you know, when somebody finds their family papers locked away and they give us the diary or we make a copy so that anyone who wants can read it and see what life was really like two hundred years ago or find out that their great-great-grandfather knew Lord So-and-So or led the first expedition to such and such because there's this old sphere we have in the archives that I or someone like me cataloged. I love all of that. It's what I was trained to do." She looked up suddenly, her eyes bright with excitement. "I love to research in those old diaries and journals and spheres and pictures and trace patterns of how things used to be and how that influences how things are now. But I don't get to do any of that any more unless it's on my own time, pretty much. Now I spend my time in meetings, talking about how other people do those things, or don't do those things, or how we can make it easier for other people to do those things. Sometimes I wonder where I went wrong." She stopped, embarrassed at having said too much. It was her turn to look at the table. "Sorry. Not your problem." He tilted her face up to meet his. "It is if you want to share it," he said quietly.

Her eyes looked into his for a frozen moment, seeming to assess the sincerity of his offer. Then, her eyes closed briefly, and her face softened. She opened her eyes again to look back into his. "Let's get out of here, please?" She took them to one of the towers that rose high above the city, one not much out of the way. Mid-sennight, they would be alone at this hour. As they walked, hands linked, she asked, "Why did you leave Luca?"  
"It was my duty to leave and…seek my fortune elsewhere."  
"Do you always do your duty?"  
"Yes." She looked up into his face; saw the seriousness of his answer written there. She had caught the slight hesitation, but sensed it didn't conceal anything important. She was sure that she had found the central core of the man with the impromptu question. It would make what she wanted to ask a little easier, she hoped.

They had to climb the stairs the last two stories to the top balcony of the tower. People clearly weren't supposed to be up here at night. She took the stairs in front of him, so he could catch her if she stumbled. He was delighted to watch the sway of her hips as she climbed, delighted, and aroused.

At the top, he asked, "Why are we up here?"  
"I like the view," she replied, as she leaned her forearms on the safety rail, with her hands clasped together in front of her. He leaned on the rail next to her, clasping his own hands together in the same manner. He made sure to take a position close to hers, so close that his right shoulder was pressed into her left. He could feel the coiled tension in her, just from that one point of contact.  
"I also wanted to ask you something, or a couple of somethings, and where we were was way too crowded," she continued.  
"Go on."  
"Why 'Seven Wonders'?"  
He stared down at his clasped hands, either trying to find the words, or the courage to say them. Finally he looked at her, and began. "On my journey, with my friends, we did see the seven wonders, and we did make the path to the rainbow's end, or something close enough, I think." He paused. "I thought that journey was my perfect moment, and that it would never come again for me. Then I heard you, saw you, heard that song, and I didn't know anymore. You captured it so perfectly. How did you know what I felt?" The sudden anguish in his voice, on his face, was too much for her to bear, and yet she wanted to share it. _What is it he doesn't know?_ She turned and buried her face in his shoulder, overwhelmed by the depth of the emotion in him. Auron unclasped his hands, and cupped the back of her head to press it against his shoulder, anchoring her against him. _I don't know anymore if that perfect moment was then, or now_, he thought.

She felt raw, exposed. She had gotten more than she bargained on. Way more. She shook her head a little, so Auron released her. She looked up. "Let's step back a bit. We're not supposed to be up here, after all." As they drew back into the shadows of the support column, she shivered with cold. Her jacket was too light to be up this high. Auron stood behind her, blocking the wind, and wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her back against his chest. She immediately settled in to the warmth of his body, her right hand clasped over his. She was enveloped by his scent, slightly spicy, exotic. Her head was resting on something that was not natural. _I could learn to hate that leather breastplate pretty quick_. It had been a long time since she'd been this close to a man. She'd forgotten how good it felt. _No, on second thought, it never felt this good_. Her eyes closed, drinking in the sensations of warmth, heat, fire. "Mmmm," escaped her lips. She was aware of every inch where their bodies touched, and of her own reactions, especially the damp heat between her legs. _Hell, it feels as though my entire body is turning to liquid in his arms_. It was clearly having the opposite effect on him.

His lips were near her ear. "What else did you want to ask me?" His warm breath on her skin made her wonder what it would be like to feel his mouth on hers. Mentally shaking herself out of her reverie, she remembered her other question. She wasn't sure she wanted to see his face; she knew that sometimes it was easier to bare your soul if you could forget someone was listening.

"This is an important question, or, at least, I think it is. Give me a minute to explain. The other night you asked why I sing, and I told you that it's what my soul needs to make me whole. I enjoy my day job, well, I used to, anyway, and it certainly provides the creature comforts, but music feeds my soul. Auron, have you ever asked yourself what you need?"

Her grip on his arms had tightened. He knew this was important to her, but he didn't know why, or he only saw it dimly, at best. "I have always done my duty," and only he knew what it had, and would, cost him. "I have never had the luxury of worrying overmuch about what I wanted."

There was a chill in his voice she didn't care for, but she pressed on. _If I can't make him understand, then he doesn't have a soul worth bothering with, even if he does have a body to die for_. "Auron, I didn't say want, I said need. We're both adults, only children think they can have whatever they want. Grown ups know you can't have everything you want. Hell, some days, you can't have anything you want. I need my music. I'd be less of a person without it. The fact that I don't make money performing doesn't matter. I believe that if an adult doesn't know what they truly need to make themselves complete, something festers inside and turns sour. That's what regrets are made of. Sometimes, you can't have what you need because you find out too late, or you try your best and fail, or you have a duty that takes precedence, but if you don't do so knowingly, it means nothing but grief. But if you can figure out what you truly need, usually, if you try hard enough, you can find a way. Now do you understand?"

Auron thought, not of himself, but of Jecht, and Braska. Jecht had been from this world, this Zanarkand. On their journey, Jecht had talked, it had often seemed the man had done nothing but talk. His son was much like him in that respect. Jecht had thought he needed to be a star, that he needed the adulation of the crowds that lined the Blitzball stadium. He had seen that his glory was fading, as such glory always did. In desperation, Jecht had turned to alcohol to dull the pain of losing what he thought he needed most, instead of finding what it was about playing the game that he had truly needed, as Mercy had said. If it had been the love of the game itself, Jecht could have had that his life long, and passed on that love to others, through coaching, or in some other manner. There would have been a way. Instead, he let it fester, and tried to find his answers in a bottle. And lost his son.

Braska had needed Jenni. He had loved his Al Bhed so much he had given up everything to marry her, and when she died, his soul had gone with hers to the Farplane. Becoming a summoner, undertaking the pilgrimage, had begun as an honorable way to follow his wife to the Farplane, no matter how much he had spoken of revenge against Sin or duty to Spira. Braska had loved his daughter, but he needed his wife. Jenni had been his life, his soul. He had found a new purpose in bringing the Calm, but only because it led to his death.

As for himself, he had been promised to the warrior monks as a boy. He had been told it was his duty, and it had been drummed into him from his earliest days that he must always do his duty. He had shown an early aptitude at martial arts training, so the path his duty had led him to had not initially been an onerous one. But his own needs or desires had never been a consideration.

Auron nodded, then realized Mercy couldn't see it. "I understand. But I have never thought about it before." _I have an answer for my friends, but not for myself_, he thought. Then he looked down at the woman in his arms and was suddenly afraid that he did have an answer.

She leaned back into him, where she had been tense a moment before. Briefly, she let his strength support her. It was not an indulgence she often allowed herself. She hadn't had anyone to lean on in a long time, physically or any other way, except her brother, of course, but it just wasn't the same. After a few peaceful minutes she said, "Auron, it's late. Walk me home, please."  
As they walked toward her apartment, he asked if she had to work in the morning. "No, I work tomorrow night until nine, why?"  
"How do you get home?"  
"I walk."  
"Alone?"  
"Of course. It's perfectly safe."  
"Then why did your brother insist…?  
"He worries about me. We've looked out for each other for a long time. He still doesn't like me walking home alone when I work at night, but I've been doing it for years."  
"Let me walk you home tomorrow night. I insist. To make up for my neglect the other night."  
She smiled up at him. "Well, if you insist." He smiled back. "I do."  
"Then meet me at the City Archives, fourth floor East Service Desk, no later than quarter 'til nine. They won't let anyone in after that."  
"I'll be there."

…Spira…Macalania Woods

Looking up at the tree canopy in the dark, he couldn't see the stars. He had told her that he would be there, at the time not thinking what those words meant beyond the next evening. He remembered that his only intent at the time had been to ensure that he had an excuse to see her the next evening. A bittersweet smile crossed his face. He'd been in way over his head, and he had known, even then, he didn't really want to get out. He had already known he wanted to get deeper in.

End Chapter Six


	7. Fire Down Below

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The title of this chapter is from a song written by Bob Seger, and performed at different times by Bette Midler and by Bob Seger. For this chapter, the Bette Midler version is probably the more appropriate.

* * *

He closed his eye and laced his fingers behind his head. It was so easy to conjure up the sound of her voice. Easier still to recall the feel of her sweet body sleeping in his arms that first time. He had heard Wakka talking earlier, wondering if it would help Rikku if she just screamed at the lightning, the way Tidus had screamed in Kilika. _I would scream, too, if I thought it would make the pain go away._

…Zanarkand…five years ago

The walk home refreshed her. This was the bad news. Getting up in the morning in time to get everything done and still get to work by one was going to be a real pain. She hated mornings.  
When they reached her building, Auron came in with her. He had promised, after all. Her apartment was at the end of the hall, on the twentieth floor. High enough to have a good, but not great, view. The price went up as the floors did, and she had been more interested in space than view when she bought the place five years previously.  
Upon arriving at her own door, she blurted out, "Look, you've come this far, you might as well come in." Not the most gracious invitation, but, at past midnight, graciousness was in very short supply. He raised a brow quizzically, but then inclined his head in assent. She unlocked the door and ushered him inside.

The room in front of him was spacious, and clearly served as a living room. The windows opposite held a view of the city, filled with starlight. There were doors to the left, clearly leading to the rest of the apartment, although one open doorway was next to the entryway, the kitchen, it seemed. Mercy hung her jacket on a rack beside the front door. "I'm going to make tea. Want some?" He didn't want to put her to any trouble, so he agreed. He stood and looked out the windows, fascinated by the sparkling view of the city. He realized that he was much warmer here than he had been outside, so he unbuckled the belt at his waist and removed his coat. He laid it over the end of the couch. He hesitated for a few seconds, and then he unbuckled the bracer on his left arm, and placed it on a chair, along with his glove. He carefully set his glasses on the table. He'd left the collar at home. It had become a nuisance. He went to the kitchen to see if he could 'help'.

When he came through the doorway into the kitchen, Mercy thought he looked good enough to eat. Literally. _The more of him I see, the better he looks_. The water boiled. _Why did I suggest tea? I'm too hot already_. The sudden grin on his face suggested that he was aware of it, too, _damn him_. She poured the water into the teapot. "Please carry the tray into the living room. Just put it down on the table in front of the sofa." She watched him walk ahead of her toward the living room. _The back view is well worth watching. Mmm, gorgeous_.

Auron put the tray on the table, and went to examine the decorations on the walls behind the couch while Mercy finished with the tea. He was astonished to see the paintings, one a fine picture of two coeurls, one realistically detailed and one fantastic coeurl, black with crimson whiskers and tail, and a beautifully drawn map of Spira, labeled in nearly illegible Old Guado script, in addition to the display of the blades she had inherited from her grandmother. _Where had that map come from?_ He turned to examine the blades more closely. "May I?" He would never touch them without her permission.  
"Please do."  
Respectfully, he lifted the long dagger from the wall and inspected it carefully. It was well cared for, but he could also judge that it was not just decorative. Someone, at least, did practice with it regularly. "They are beautiful weapons."  
"Thank you. The tea is ready."  
She had only turned the lights on partway, so the room was lit more by the moonlight and starlight from the windows than from within. Thanks to his coat, part of the sofa was not available, so she sat in the middle of the cushions. When the tea had finished steeping, he sat near her, close enough to touch, if either of them wanted. She busied herself with the tea, calm on the surface, confused within. She turned on the cushions to face him, while holding the mug of tea in front of her with both hands, like a shield. They could talk until she decided what to do. _We could just go to bed_, her eyes swept over him. _I want him enough. Hell, who wouldn't? But it's just so empty in the morning. It's not worth it anymore. And there might be something more here, if we wait for it. Maybe. I think he might accept me as I am. Maybe. Big maybe_.

He turned to face her, rested his arm along the back of the couch, picked up his mug to drink, turned so he could face her. "What happened to your parents?"

_Why is it we never seem to ask each other easy questions?_ "One day, my parents went out into the harbor for a pleasure cruise. It was supposed to be an afternoon excursion. The pilot decided to leave the harbor, to go out into the open ocean, he wanted to show his passengers the view of the city from farther out. It is beautiful from a distance, but more dangerous. It was supposed to be only slightly more dangerous. Several of the surviving passengers had distance viewers, to use for looking at the cityscape, but, unfortunately, no one had a sphere, so there are no pictures, just reports. Most of the passengers were looking at the city, but at least one of the crew was looking out to sea, and reported an unusually large sea creature, or monster, fairly close to the ship. It didn't attack, but it was swimming near by, and when it dove under the water, the wake swamped the small craft, so it didn't just capsize, it also broke apart. My mother was struck in the head by a piece of flotsam, and lost consciousness. She sank. My father tried to save her. They both drowned."

_Sin_, he cursed to himself.

Mercy, focused on the past, didn't realize that her hands were white as she gripped the mug, or that her eyes were huge, lost, and that tears were streaming down her face. Auron put his own cup down, and gently removed hers from her hands. Then he pulled her, unresisting, into his arms. He stroked her head and back soothingly as she continued to speak.

"I was so alone. I was an only child, and I was a little weird, I guess." She sniffled, rubbing her eyes with her hands. She became aware of her position, and tried to get a little more comfortable, stealing one of her arms around his waist, settling her head against his chest. "Actually, I was a lot weird. Too sharp, too smart, too much of a smart-ass. Too much of a loner. Into my music, the studies I enjoyed, skating by on the ones I didn't. Then, it was like I was some kind of bad luck or something. Kids think they're immortal. And they don't like change, not really. I was a constant reminder that, well, maybe they weren't immortal, or that things could change in ways they weren't expecting." She stopped to catch her breath, then she plunged on. "I wasn't supposed to be serious about the music, not really. My parents paid for the lessons, but they always considered it a hobby, I guess. After my folks died, it was a solace, and an escape."

Her gaze turned inward, and filled with fear. "But if my parents hadn't died, if I hadn't been so alone, I might not have gone to that musicians' meet, and I wouldn't have met Daf that day. I don't know if he would have found anyone else there he could have turned to. I don't know what would have happened to him." With each sentence, her fist drummed on his breastplate. She couldn't hurt him this way, but he was worried about her. Her eyes were black pools. She was speaking from the depths of a nightmare, an old one that she had carried alone, a long, long time. He let her go on. It was better for her to get it out of her system. "Sooner or later, I think his dad would have killed him, maybe not on purpose, but Daf would have been just as dead. Auron, what if I hadn't been there that day?" She was shaking now, shivering in shock and reaction. She threw her arms around him, but she couldn't get close enough to get warm. He held her as close as he could, but he could tell that it wasn't working, even her teeth were chattering, no matter how much he stroked her back, murmured in her ear. The emotional storm had become a physical reaction, and he couldn't seem to warm her enough to ease the chill in her heart.

His armor was in the way. One-handed, he released the clips at his sides, and held her away just long enough to raise the molded leather piece over his head. He drew her back against him as it fell to the floor behind the sofa. He held her close, and her shuddering began to ease as she settled against his body, her arms around his waist, her head against his shoulder, finally able to drink in enough of his body's heat. She felt so good in his arms. As he ran his hands down her back, feeling the lithe muscles from her shoulders to her waist, he had to remind himself that what she needed now was comfort. He was too aware of the fullness of her breasts pressed against his chest, the tightness in his groin. It had been too many years since he had held a woman close this way, or even wanted to. He looked down at her face. He continued to hold her, as she cried herself out. It took him a long time to realize that she had fallen asleep. He thought he ought to be insulted, but he discovered that he was touched by her trust. _She must feel safe_. He reached out with his fingertips, and snagged his coat from the other end of the couch. He leaned back, settling her into a more comfortable position against his chest. Then, he pulled the coat over them both, propped his feet on the table, and let himself drift into sleep.

She woke a couple of hours later, because her pillow wasn't as soft as usual, and in sleep, she couldn't quite figure out why. Dreamily, she tried to press her face even more deeply into Auron's shoulder and straighten her legs, but when her knees bumped into the back of the couch, she woke up completely. The starlight from the windows was sufficient to allow her to study his face. In sleep, he looked less severe, the frown lines that were starting to form smoothed away in repose. He barely looked the thirty years he claimed. The planes of his face were beautifully sculpted, the scar merely giving him a rakish air. _I want to kiss him, taste him. He's asleep, he'll never know. _The longer she stared, the more she was tempted. She didn't notice the glitter of his barely open eye. He was awake, and watching her. She licked her lips, and placed her hands on his shoulders. At last, she leaned in, whispered, "Wake up, sweetheart", and gently pressed her lips to his. Her voice and her touch were so soft, it was clear she did not intend to wake him yet, but she had not bargained on his already being awake. She hadn't noticed that every time she had shifted position, his arms had stayed clasped around her, not likely if he'd still been asleep.

When her lips touched his, fire lanced through them both, so fast, it was almost like pain. It burned through the normal, tentative first steps, and they were in the midst of a firestorm. Their mouths were fused together, tongues trying to taste everything, all at once. He turned her so that she sprawled across his lap; it was easier for him to hold her, her breasts against his chest. The sensation seared through them both. She was glad of the impulse that had made him shed the last of his armor. The thin shirt that he wore under it was no barrier to her fingers. She could feel taut muscles of his back shift under her hands as he moved. She explored his back, and then the sculpted planes of his chest and they continued to kiss and caress. His fingers traced the long curve of her spine, down her back, then his palms grazed along her sides. Part of her was trying to think _this is too fast _while the rest was purring _that feels so good_ about kisses that licked down her neck and along her shoulder, or about the fingertips that traced the low neck of her shirt, and left a trail of fire over the edge of her breasts. She wanted more. His mouth came back to hers, and she sucked on his lower lip when he kissed her. He groaned. He wanted to carry her to bed. Now. _Hell, this couch is big enough …_ That half-familiar voice whispered again, "It will be sweeter if you wait." Auron was in no mood to listen to it. It would be very painful to listen. He was losing himself in her, and he didn't want to stop now. She brought her hands up to his face, and then she kissed him, long and deep. She was losing control, fast. _It was all too fast, too soon_, she thought again. _Slow down, take a deep breath_. She felt light-headed. Slowly, reluctantly, she started to slow the pace. He let her lead him out of the fire, gently, gradually. Why, he wasn't sure. _Maybe I am listening to that voice, after all. Maybe I am also out of my mind, _he thought to himself.

A long time later, they were just holding each other again, but her whole body still thrummed with desire, and he was hard as stone. It would take next to nothing to start the fire again. Her body was ready, eager, but her heart was much less certain. If they waited until they knew each other better, they might have something real. One-night stands just left her feeling even lonelier in the morning. They weren't worth it any more. She hoped she could make him understand, or at least stall the man a little. She had a feeling they didn't need much time, just a little bit.  
"Auron?"  
"Mmm?" he murmured. He was nibbling on her neck again. She curled into his embrace, giving herself to the sensation. He kissed her again, taking a long time about it, letting the fire build up slowly this time. Unthinking, she started to pull his t-shirt up. When her hand found the bare skin at his waist, she thought again, _too soon, too fast, not now, not yet, damn,_ and set her arms around his neck, where they would hopefully cause less trouble. She opened her eyes, looked into his with, she hoped, a serious expression on her face. He got enough of his brain working to focus on her face and hold his hands still, but it was, well, difficult. _Be straight about this,_ she thought to herself, _you've only got about one chance_.

Out loud, "Auron, if we're ever going to be lovers, I want to know you a little better than I do now, and I sure as hell want more time than is left of this night. A lot more," she said with a grin. Then her eyes roamed over his face, seriously now, trying to gauge his reaction. In spite of the momentary grin, this was no game she was playing, but many men would have taken it as one. Auron saw she was serious, and again he heard that voice in the recesses of his mind, "It will be sweeter if you wait." Mercy's small store of patience reached its limit. "Is this okay?" she questioned.

His hand cupped her cheek. "Difficult, but bearable." Then he grinned at her in return. "Once more before I leave?" He had promised, but some gleam in his eye…She nodded, then swallowed hard past a sudden lump in her throat. _What is he thinking?_

_Just because I promised to wait, doesn't mean I can't try to convince her to change her mind_, he thought, as he kissed her deeply, over and over again. His lips licked their way from her mouth down her neck to her collarbone, and back up again. She was on fire, her arms around him, rubbing herself against him. Her breasts felt swollen; her nipples ached for him to touch them. His hand traced the deep v of her shirt, dipped inside to cup the swell of one breast. Her back arched as she pressed herself into his palm, the generous globe overflowing his hand. He teased the peak with his thumb and forefinger, and she moaned into his mouth as he kissed her. This wasn't enough for either of them, they both wanted more. He kept hearing that voice, "It will be sweeter if you wait." _Damn!_

_He had promised, and he always kept his promises. I have a very wicked idea, but I don't want to go too far, tonight_. She got up on her knees, and put her hands on his shoulders, then shifted position so that her knees were on either side of his thighs, straddling him, flagrantly rubbing herself the full length of him. His head fell back against the couch. _This is torture. I promised to wait…does she have to punish me like this?_ He wanted, no needed to punish her the same way, and make sure she continued as long as possible. He brought her head down for a slow, lingering kiss, then turned his attention to her breasts. The neck of her shirt gaped open now. His hand opened it further, as he kissed, licked, and nibbled his way down her neck, along the sensitive tops of her breasts to the taut nipples. Her hips rocked in response. He kept his other hand low on her backside, pressing her hips into his groin. If she was going to torture him, he was going to enjoy every inch of it. He suckled first one breast, and then the other. Her whole body screamed for her to take him to bed, to tell him she'd changed her mind about waiting. _It feels too good...he feels too good…why did I want to stop him?_ _Too soon…_She wrapped his ponytail around her hand and dragged his head up, poured herself into a searing kiss that left them both breathless.

She had nearly let go of all restraint, temporarily. In the sweet haze of sensation, some rational thought was trying to break through. _If we're not going any further tonight, we need to stop soon, or we'll both die or something. But there are a lot worse ways to go._

His roaming hand found the bow at the back of her shirt. And stilled. If he pulled it, he didn't think he would be able to stop. And he had promised. "It will be sweeter if you wait," the voice said. _Damn it all to hell_, Auron growled back, but in the dark of his mind. More to the point, he would not break his word to her, so they needed to slow down again, and he would have to go…very, very soon. If this were to start yet another time tonight…

Thankfully, they were of the same mind, as it was more difficult to step back than before. Eventually they ended as they had begun, with Mercy across Auron's lap, her head pillowed on his shoulder. With the adrenaline fading, she yawned sleepily, and he realized that it was time for him to leave.

They ended the evening, now nearly morning, almost where it should have begun. She unlocked the door for him to go and they held each other, gently this time. She looked up into his face. He leaned down to kiss her, a soft, lingering kiss, trying not to re-kindle the fire between them. Auron smiled down at her. "I will see you later this evening. Good night, my lady."  
A small grin crossed her face. "Good morning, Auron. See you later." She closed the door, undressed and fell into bed, and sleep.

Auron paced through the city, attempted to understand what was happening to him, and failed. His mind returned to the story she had told him, about her parents. Her life, even in Zanarkand, had also been touched by Sin.  
Her earlier question kept him awake. _What do I need?_

…Spira…Macalania Woods

Alone in Spira, in the strange light that filtered through the trees of the Macalania Woods, he was all too aware of the answer. Not that it mattered anymore.

End Chapter Seven


	8. She Works Hard for the Money

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The title of the chapter is from the song "She Works Hard for the Money", originally performed by Donna Summer

* * *

The twisting paths of the Macalania Woods were shrouded in endless twilight. There seemed to be no difference between day and night under the enchanted trees. In Zanarkand, those first days had seemed endless. He remembered searching every room for clocks, constantly believing that more time must have passed than actually had. 

…Zanarkand…five years ago

Mercy had realized early that evening that there was a flaw in her plan to have Auron meet her at work that night. _By tomorrow morning, every single member of the staff will know that a man came to pick me up at work tonight. Nothing in Zanarkand travels faster than the speed of gossip. So much for my reputation as the 'ice lady'. Even if there isn't all that much to tell…yet_. She grinned to herself.

Mercy was working on the desk with another Archivist, a young, blonde woman named Trezza. At an hour before closing, Mercy tried to sound casual when she informed Trezza, in rather wry tones that, "Someone is going to meet me here around quarter 'til nine. If I'm with a patron, please try not to let him get away."  
"But how will I know it's him?"  
"Don't worry, you'll know," came Mercy's rather cryptic response.

Mercy got involved with a complicated research request a few minutes later, and was still working with the budding scholar in a far corner when Auron arrived, more than half an hour later. He saw the sign over the desk, so he knew he was in the right place, but he didn't see Mercy. By this time, whenever he was meeting her, he left his collar at home, so Trezza was able to get a good look at him. She understood Mercy's mysterious 'you'll know' instantly, she just didn't believe it. _Gorgeous, here, is picking up the ice queen? Who would ever have guessed? Just wait until this gets around.._. Addressing herself to the handsome stranger, she asked, "Excuse me, sir, can I help you?"  
"I am looking for Mercy. Is she here?"  
"Yes sir, but she's helping someone right now. Is there anything I can do for you?" Trezza leaned way over the desk. She just couldn't seem to stop herself.  
"I'll wait." He stood on the other side of the desk, near the vacant chair surrounded by paperwork. Mercy's, he assumed. Trezza resumed her seat, but continued to watch him as he scanned the room, searching for Mercy.  
The blonde was getting on his nerves. Finally, he queried, "May I help you?" in an annoyed tone.  
She sighed. "Yes, but Mercy wouldn't leave enough of me to bury." Finally, she returned to her work and stopped staring at him.

Just then, Mercy walked up to Auron, and felt a sudden, female need to mark her territory. As soon as she was close enough, she placed both hands on his arm and put some downward pressure into the gesture. He smiled indulgently as he got the point. He leaned over, just enough for her to kiss him on the cheek. Trezza also got the point, especially since it would make the rounds of gossip that much juicier. The unmistakable message was 'Mine. Look, don't touch.'

Mercy told Auron, "I need to go to my office, get my stuff and wait by the exit until the public is out of the building. Let's go." To Trezza, "Good night."  
In response, the younger woman mumbled, "'Night," in a rather miffed tone.

They rode the lift to Mercy's office, which was several floors above the public service area, meaning it had a much nicer view of the central city. She brought the lights up while she retrieved her belongings. She was quite pleased to see that, although he could clearly see the size of her office, he was neither unduly impressed nor bothered by it, both reactions she had unfortunately observed before. He was more interested in the artwork. She had a collection of illustrated maps on the walls, of the city, and of the world as it was reported to be outside Zanarkand. She ushered him out so she could lock up, and they rode down to the main entrance. He watched her as the public and staff filed out of the building, then they exited as the security staff locked up behind them. Automatically, he clasped her hand as she steered them someplace they could get a drink and conversation. She was too tired for anything else tonight.  
"Why do you do that?" he asked, once they were settled.  
"You mean work at night, or the closing thing?"  
"Both, either?" he queried.

"I work Fourthnights so I don't have to get up early the morning after a mid-sennight performance. I get such a rush, onstage; it's pretty hard to go to sleep afterwards. And I'm not a morning person. The closing thing, well, sometimes people don't want to leave at closing time. The public, I mean. Sometimes, they just get mean, and security handles them. Other times, they want to talk to someone in charge about how their taxes pay for the Archives and they know Lord so-and-so and they basically want to be shown some respect, or they want someone to prove that there's a written rule why they can't stay late, and they won't accept it from anyone except the person in charge, and, if I'm there, then it's my job."  
"Do you have to work at night?" he was still puzzled.  
"Not anymore, but then I'd have to make some other arrangements for Fourthday mornings. Ugh!" she said with a grimace. _I don't want to talk about my work anymore. I want to get him to talk._

"Auron, tell me about your journey, the one you and your friends took, please?"  
Inwardly, his mind reeled. _I want to tell her, but how? What to omit, so she doesn't think me mad? Braska is safe, but not Jecht, and not Zanarkand, or Yevon, or Sin, or the Aeons, or the fayth, or the Summoning, or Yunalesca, or who knows what else_. He told her as much as he could. He didn't lie, he just edited. He did a great deal of editing.

She could tell that a lot was unsaid, but it didn't matter right now. What he did say had the ring of truth. She assumed that the omissions were simply too painful to speak. It was clear he had lost two people who were very precious to him. She wondered if she was the first person he had told even this much. She also wondered if there was any way she could ease his suffering.

Even saying this much had been cathartic, a release of long-pent up grief. He hadn't shared this much of himself with anyone in a long time, maybe too long. There had been no one for him to turn to since he had lost Braska, and Jecht. _Why this woman, this time, this place?_

Just then, she noticed the time on the clock over the bar. _Ouch, it's later than I thought_. She tended to lose track of time when she was with Auron. She leaned her head against his shoulder, rubbed her face against his coat, wishing it were his bare skin. She looked up at him through half closed lids, and spoke without thinking, "I'm tired, love. Take me home." Her face colored as she realized exactly what she had said, but decided that he could take it however he wanted to, she was just too tired to worry about her subconscious right now. He was more than a little stunned, but thought she couldn't have meant the word seriously, so he just slapped some coins on the table, and nodded in agreement. They rose and headed for her place.

The moment of shock on his face made her wonder if he would keep away from her as they walked the rest of the way back to her building, but the habit was already too established. He laced his fingers with hers as soon as they were both standing, and didn't let go until they reached her door.

He felt too unsure of his ground to risk saying anything, and she was too tired to trust herself to speak, so, they had walked in silence on the trip to her apartment. On the ride in the elevator, he had broken it to ask, "Do you sing tomorrow night?"  
"Yes, same place as where we met."  
"What time?"  
"We usually try for a slot between ten and eleven, but the place gets pretty packed by nine. You should come before that if you want a decent table. You were lucky last time to get such a good spot." _Up to you_, she thought to herself.

He wanted to kiss her goodnight, but knew he wouldn't want to stop. Talking with her, tonight, about the pilgrimage, he understood better what she had meant the previous evening. They might have more between them. Comfort, understanding, sharing. Not just sex. Emotions he wasn't ready to put a name to. Pushing her before she was ready, or when she was too tired, wouldn't help.

At her door, he released her hand, and stepped back. Now that they had arrived, he was afraid to touch her. He had promised her that they would wait until she was ready. And, wait until there was more time. He could see how tired she was. _It would be so easy to come inside with her, now. Stay the night, just to sleep. She slept in my arms last night, on the couch. Why not tonight? _Two seconds' thought gave him the answer. _She would sleep, due to sheer exhaustion. I would lie awake in absolute frustration. The moment she woke in the morning, I would do anything I could think of, hell, everything I could think of, to get her to make love with me, right then._ _But I don't think tomorrow morning before she has to go to work is exactly what she has in mind, either_. _It would be so easy to get her to change her mind, right now. I think she's just tired enough. All of her barriers are down. I don't know if I can resist the temptation to try if I so much as touch her, not with her apartment so close._ He tried to keep temptation a safe distance away, uncertain of the right thing to do.

Mercy's thoughts were running in a completely different direction. _This is insane. One misplaced word, and he's practically put up all the barriers again_. _Maybe I'm just tired, and this will all seem ridiculous in the morning. Or I'll seem ridiculous in the morning_. They stared at each other, neither certain what to do, what to say.

In complete confusion, he said her name. Just her name, at first, "Mercy." It was almost a plea. Then, with more control of himself, "Good night, my lady." He turned, and plodded down the hall, toward the elevator.

She replied quietly, not even sure he could hear, "Good night, Auron," and turned to unlock the door. He managed three steps down the hallway. That was all. Then he turned on his heel. It only took him two long strides to return to her. Then his hands were on her arms, spinning her around to face him. He used his weight to pin her to the door as his mouth claimed hers. Only when he felt her hands grip his arms in return did he let go of her arms, to mold the length of her body against his taller frame. She twined her arms around his neck, as her back arched. His only coherent thought was that they needed to stay on this side of the door if he was going to keep his promise. She placed her hands on either side of his face, standing on her toes so she could kiss him this time, long and deep. She tried to use her arms around his neck to balance out the difference in their heights, as he held her close in his arms, his hands under the light jacket she wore. With a groan, his hand dropped low against her backside, holding her hips tightly against his. She ground her pelvis against him, and they kissed deeply. Inspiration struck. He looped an arm under her, and lifted her until her legs could lock around his waist, while her arms draped around his neck. With her back against the door, they could stay like this for a long time.

Time just disappeared. Any neighbor with a security cam pointed toward her door got one hell of a show. Their kisses were long, deep, sometimes fast, sometimes achingly slow. If he leaned over, he could suck her nipples through her shirt, which drove her insane. Her reaction, and his own, almost sent him over the edge. She licked the pulse point in his neck, sucked his ear, nibbled his lower lip, whatever seemed likely to make him lose control. She knew it was dangerous to keep pushing him, but he was making her crazy. It just seemed so unfair. Her arms were wound around his neck as she kissed him deeply, her tongue dueling with his. Her fingers untied the leather cord that bound his hair, and she ran her fingers through the dark, thick mass. It felt like heavy, raw silk. His hands were on the bare skin of her back, under her shirt. His hands were warm, her skin was on fire. They only eased off when her ankles began to unlock of their own accord.

They were both breathless, and he had to hold her up for a while, her knees were weak, her ankles, too. She giggled a little. "What are you thinking?" he asked. His voice was even huskier than usual.  
"I was wondering if higher heels would solve this problem," she said shakily.  
"A bed would solve this problem," he growled in reply. Her whole body throbbed in response to his voice. Without thinking of the consequences, she wound one arm around his neck and drew his head down to hers for one last mind-drugging kiss. She was so tired of his damn armor; she reached under his coat and kneaded her fingers into the flesh of his buttocks. He groaned into her mouth, as his hips rocked, thrusting his erection against her belly. Her back slammed into the door. Reluctantly, he dragged himself out of the kiss and pressed her head tightly against his chest, fighting for self-control. Both of them were breathing raggedly.

"Soon," she purred in reply to his statement, it seemed like half a lifetime ago. _It's time to call it a night_, she thought_, before that soon becomes now. Even tomorrow night would normally be too soon, but it feels like this, this whatever it is, isn't really normal anyway_.

He thought he'd probably just said, and done, more than enough. He also knew enough about Zanarkand after five years to realize that tomorrow night there would be enough time. All he had to do was wait. But he had no desire to wait. His desires were all for now. "Then I will see you tomorrow night." Suddenly, the words were filled with a double meaning.  
"Yes."  
"Farewell, my lady."

She closed the door behind her, got ready for bed, tried to think through a tangle of heated memories, sexual anticipation, emotional overload, fading adrenaline, and exhaustion. She was too tired to sleep. She lay awake, thinking about Auron. _Not just the sexual heat, although that was a big part of it. I'm no shy virgin; I've had lovers before. It hadn't been like this. This is like standing on the edge of a volcano. No, wrong metaphor. This is like being the volcano. It's been dormant a long time, but now it's awake. But it's awake because of everything else. He accepts me as I am. I think. He doesn't seem to flinch at anything I do that's important to me, like my music or my martial arts training. Most of the men I've even thought about seeing want me to give up one or the other, or both. Instead, the music fascinates him, and the martial arts are a shared interest. That's got to be rare for him, too_.

It's been a long time since I've told anyone about Daf. Or about my folks. People think I should be over it somehow. It's hard to open up that much. But he really listened. It was good to lean on someone, for a little while, knowing it wouldn't mean he thought I was weak. He leaned on me, too, I think. He probably told me more about himself than he's told anyone in years. But some of those places aren't on any official map I've ever seen. Besaid, Kilika, José? Still, I swear he was telling the truth as he saw it. There's more to his story. He'll tell me when he's ready.

_Why did I call him 'love' earlier? Because I was tired, and it just slipped out, I guess. Slipped out of where? Your heart, you idiot. Don't you know the truth when you hear it?_ She sat up in bed with a jolt. _I'm falling in love with him. Oh bloody hell. That changes everything._

Auron walked home slowly. He still had too much on his mind, most of it to do with Mercy. _Why did I tell her so much about the pilgrimage?_ _She will realize that half of it doesn't match this Zanarkand, and she will think I am out of my mind. Does it really matter what she thinks, as long as you get her into bed?_ That voice was his own, undoubtedly his baser instincts. _I'm clearly not getting enough sleep. Maybe I am going out of my mind._

It mattered very much what she thought. He had been alone too long. Yes, he wanted to get her into bed, but it was more than that. He enjoyed their conversations, and their silences. He had missed friendship, and now, he had that back again. The closeness to another person, someone he could share his thoughts and feelings with. And when she had called him 'love' in the café tonight, his heart had stopped beating.

He had to sit down_. I'm falling in love with her_, he thought. _By the fayth, now what?_ _I cannot love her and not tell her the truth, about myself, about this Zanarkand, about everything. She will probably think I am a lunatic and show me the door._ He smiled uncertainly. _I will just have to love her so well that she will be willing to keep me around, even if she does think I am crazy. It is worth trying. She will believe me eventually_, he realized. _Her life has already been touched by Sin_. Sadly, he thought, _we will have five years, and then I will have to take the boy, and return to Spira, to fulfill my promises to Braska, and to Jecht. And when Jecht comes for us, the destruction_…his gloved fist broke through the wooden bench, raining splinters on the ground below.

…Spira…Macalania Woods

On Spira, in a cold camp in the Macalania Woods, Auron had fallen into a fitful sleep. In restless dreams, he called for mercy, mercy. Wakka, on last watch, heard the older guardian, but thought it must be a nightmare, or an imagined fight, that someone was begging Auron for mercy. The young blitz captain couldn't imagine that the legendary guardian had ever lost a fight in his life, let alone begged for mercy.

End Chapter Eight


	9. Help Me

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The song "Slow Hand" was written by Michael Clark and John Bettis, performed by The Pointer Sisters, and "Help Me" was written and performed by Joni Mitchell, and I don't own them, either.

* * *

After a second day traversing the twisting paths of the Macalania Woods, the party had reached the shelter of yet another of Rin's ubiquitous Travel Agencies. They all dreaded the next stage of their journey, which would probably result in one more meeting with Seymour Guado. Auron had his doubts about Yuna's ability to successfully negotiate with the wily young Maester, but as she had invoked her Summoner's privilege, the next move was up to her. At least, the relative safety of the Agency would permit all of them to get a decent night's rest, although he suspected that Kimahri would spend the night patrolling the hall outside Yuna's room. That was the Ronso's choice. Auron planned to spend another night with his memories for company.

…Zanarkand…five years ago…

By the time they went onstage at half past ten, Mercy was so keyed up she was ready to climb the walls of the Green Room. On the one hand, she had argued with Daf until she had some very specific songs in the play list that night. She wanted to send Auron a message, if he was willing to understand it. And she wanted to sing 'Seven Wonders' for him again, maybe for the last time, if he didn't get it. On the other hand, she was too damned nervous to even check to see if he was in the audience.

Then the manager asked them to sing the full six songs tonight, even though it was Fifthnight and he had a lot of acts lined up. He thought they were getting 'hot', and he hoped they would hold the audience, since the group before them wasn't very good. _There is just too much happening at once. It's enough to give a girl the vapors_, she thought.

As she scanned the audience she saw that he was there now. Auron was sitting in a second row table again. He was getting to be a creature of habit, it seemed. Dafydd strummed the opening bars for the first number, and Mercy began to sing. She made eye contact with Auron, just for a second, and nodded to him, then she began to look over the crowd. This song wasn't for him.

He watched her, heard her voice, but he wasn't taking in the words. After the initial eye contact, her gaze was roaming the crowd, so it was clear that there was nothing aimed at him in this song. He hoped he might have some semblance of self-control by the time there was.

His breath had quickened at the sight of her. His groin tightened to the point where pleasure almost met pain. But her face completely mesmerized him. It was beautiful, strong, fiercely determined, utterly female, and filled with such joy as she sang. Her body was a delight to his senses, as she prowled back and forth across the stage in time to the music. His fingers twitched. The urge to untie the bow at her back and fill his hands with her breasts was beyond any temptation he had ever known.

The second song was sad and sweet, about love, and loss, and not directed anywhere in particular. The third song was different again. The rhythm was like sex, nothing else. It seemed to beat in his blood. If he had calmed down at all, he was on fire again, maybe even more than before. And now, she was singing for him, at least for part of the song. She didn't quite have the courage to speak, yet, but to sing:

I want a man with a slow hand  
I want a lover with an easy touch  
I want somebody who will spend some time  
Not come and go in a heated rush  
I want somebody who will understand  
When it comes to love I want a slow hand

Then her eyes turned away. The rest of the song said she'd found the man, and Mercy had no idea whether she had, or not. He got the message. _Damnation, woman, is it necessary for the entire audience to receive it as well?_ Auron was not certain which he desired more at that moment, to leave with her, immediately, and answer the question she had just implied in the song, or to simply sink through the floor, in complete embarrassment. No, he knew the answer. He was rock solid certain he was ready to carry her off the stage this very minute.

But she wasn't finished. There was one more thing she needed to tell him, so as the applause died, Daf began strumming the opening bars for the next song, and she quickly followed with the verse, as her eyes met Auron's again:

Help me  
I think I'm falling  
In love again  
When I get that crazy feeling, I know  
I'm in trouble again

As she sang she turned away from him, to let the meaning start to sink in. He sat, stunned, trying to absorb what he was hearing. Her eyes returned to meet his, to continue:

Help me  
I think I'm falling  
In love too fast  
It's got me hoping for the future  
And worrying about the past  
'cause I've seen some hot high blazes  
Come down to smoke and ash

This message was also clear. But she had one last point to make before the song ended:  
  
Help me  
I think I'm falling  
In love with you  
Are you going to let me go there by myself?  
That's such a lonely thing to do  
Both of us flirting around  
Flirting and flirting  
Hurting too  
We love our lovin'  
But not like we love our freedom 

He took his glasses off, and set them on the table, to be sure she could see him clearly. She bowed to the audience as they applauded. When she stood, she looked at Auron. He met her gaze, and nodded. She still wondered if that meant he understood, he felt the same, or just that he liked the song. She was just going to have to ask. He sat in wonder. _If I understood correctly, she feels as I do. But will she believe…?_

One more song, something Daf had wanted, then they closed with 'Seven Wonders'. Auron was touched by the gesture. As soon as they were done, she went to Auron's table, learned over the vacant chair, picked up the waiting water glass, drained half, and asked, "Go home?"  
"Sure," he replied, low, almost hoarse.  
Neither of them spoke much on the way. Either they were silent, or they both tried to talk at once. It was as though there were no safe topics. Also, she was too wrapped up in her own fears to see that he was also troubled.

Inside her apartment she brought the lights on low, hung her jacket on the coat rack. Auron put his glasses in a coat pocket, fumbling on the first attempt. He started to take of his coat, but she stopped him. "Wait, there's something I need to say." She studied her toes for several seconds, then met his puzzled gaze. "Auron, I…" the window this time, "I'm…" she finally managed to lock her eyes with his. "I'm not interested in a one-night stand, or a brief fling." She took a deep breath, then rushed on. "I'm falling in love with you. If you're not planning to take this relationship seriously, please leave now. You'll hurt me less in the long run."

He needed a few seconds to translate the unfamiliar slang. He decided that both terms meant 'casual encounter'. That was not what he wanted, either. He had already revealed far too much of himself for this to be merely a casual encounter. _How do I tell her?_ He decided to answer her question from the tower, instead of the immediate challenge. _It will serve_.

"The question you asked the other night, 'What do I need?'" he responded, asking rather than answering her directly.  
"Yes?" she replied, uncertain about his change in direction.  
He cupped her face in his hands. "I need you," he whispered, as he bent to kiss her. Then he drew her close, into his arms, cradling her whole body against his. After a long embrace, they looked closely into each other's faces, then her eyes closed slowly, and she inclined her head. _Yes_. Tonight, there would be plenty of time. He swept her up into his arms.

As he carried her into the bedroom, he only noticed that the room was bathed in the moonlight and starlight from the large windows that dominated two of the walls, the light spilling over the large, unmade bed. He wasn't paying attention to anything else, except the sweetness of her mouth on his. For this one night, nothing else would matter.

He set her down on the edge of the bed, and she patted the mattress beside her, in the universal gesture for 'sit here', so he did. She slid her arms around his neck and then, suddenly felt shy. She brought her hand forward to touch his face with her fingertips. _Why am I so nervous? This is not exactly my first time…but this is our first time. It is impossible to make love and not feel love, at least a little. And I already love this man. After tonight, there will be no turning back_.

He was nervous as well, as he looped one arm around her waist, and lifted his other hand to her shoulder. _I have never been with a woman I truly cared for, before now. I have had sex, but never made love. I love this woman. How much different will this be?_ He reached up and rubbed his thumb across her lips. She kissed it. He caught her chin in his hand, and leaned over to brush his lips against hers. With her hand behind his head, she signaled that she didn't want him to move away. She kissed him back, lightly running her tongue over his upper lip. His breath caught, then changed to a faster pace. So did hers.

He kissed her again, his tongue beginning to dance with hers, and his hands stroked down her back and sides. Even through her shirt, she felt his palm caress the side of her breast. The exquisite sensation made her long to get closer to him. "This isn't fair", she murmured. "It's time to get you out of all that stuff," she continued, as she began to fumble with his belt.  
"You should have let me take my coat off earlier," he whispered huskily, as he took over the task.  
Her lips curled into an answering smile against his neck. "Smartass," she teased back.

His belt finally unbuckled, he heard it slither off the edge of the bed. He shrugged out of his coat, and it pooled around them. He undid the clasps on his armor, and let it fall over the end of the bed. She eagerly rubbed her palms over his chest, then her arms were around his waist, she heard his bracer drop to the floor, and felt his arms pull her in tight. She started to say something, to start teasing him again, and he stopped her with a kiss. She responded eagerly. All at once, their kisses turned hot, hungry, as she began tugging at his shirt, frantic to reach the bare flesh underneath. They fell onto the bed in a rolling tangle, neither caring who, or what, landed where. _We've both waited too long for this_, she thought. His mouth slanted over hers, the kiss hard, insistent. The aching need they had for each other began to overwhelm them. His fingers found the bow at her back, and pulled, and her shirt simply fell apart around her body. He traced a line in fire to her breasts, with hands and tongue, then she got his shirt over his head.

The shock of so much skin contact, his bare chest against her breasts, and the sheer, sweet pleasure of it, took his breath away. He cradled one of her breasts in his hand, as he suckled the other. She moaned something that sounded like, "Too good," just before she took his head in her hands and tilted it to meet hers. She poured herself into kissing him, sucking his lower lip into her mouth, wrapping her arms around him, he rolled half on top of her, pinning her with his weight, his hard shaft pressed against her hip, her legs tangled with his. His hands explored the curves of her derriere, molding her against him, and desperately seeking a way to remove her leggings. Her hand rested on the tightly ridged muscles of his lower abdomen. He groaned, and sucked in a deep breath, as she began to unfasten his pants, all the while, teasing the sensitive ridge of flesh just beneath her fingers.

She looked down, and realized they had forgotten something. She rested her hand on his hip, and turned her face up to his, a wide grin spread across her features. "What's so funny?" he practically growled. He was in no mood for jokes.  
She grinned, even wider, if that was possible. "Auron, you still have your boots on." She laughed. "My shoes, too."  
He chuckled, finally understanding. "So?" He didn't really need to take his boots off.  
Mercy bounced off the bed. "My shoes are tied on over my leggings. If you want to go any further, I have to take my shoes off first. And those boots have got to go. Now!" She was laughing so hard; she had to put her hand on Auron's shoulder for support. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into his lap to kiss her again, and they fell back onto the bed. Then she scrambled up again, breathless, and stood just out of his reach.  
"Auron, your boots. Take. Them. Off."

He didn't answer her in words, just bent his head to complete the task as quickly as possible. He dropped one boot to the floor and looked up, and…she blew his mind away. Mercy was standing by the end of the bed, one foot propped on the footboard. She had apparently just untied the laces on one of her shoes, and was carefully drawing the leather strings back around her calf. Auron sat mesmerized, his stare traveling from her arched foot, up her calf to her knee, across the sweep of her thigh to the vee of her crotch, up to linger on her bare breasts, then on to her face, and then down and all the way down the slimly muscled length of her other leg to the floor, and back. Even though she was still clothed from the waist down, she was the most sensual, the most seductive woman he had ever seen.

She heard his erratic breathing as she finished with one shoe, so she looked up. She knew she would never forget the sight of him, just like this, as long as she lived. He had to be the sexiest man she had ever seen, or possibly even imagined. He was sitting there with his pants undone, and they had fallen down from his waist to his hips. He was leaning back on his hands, which were gripping the sheet underneath until the knuckles were white. His torso was corded with muscle, and it seemed like every one of them was knotted with the effort of not reaching out to grab her right this second, instead of waiting just a few more minutes. She could feel it in the air between them. His face was filled with desire, his jaw slack, his eye half-lidded. She was very tempted to jump into his lap and just let him tear her leggings off. Then he said, in a voice that was husky, even for him, "Wait, let me watch you do that," as he quickly pulled off his other boot and leaned back again to catch the rest of her show.

She carefully unwound the rest of the straps from her other shoe. He watched her in total fascination. Then, she stepped in front of him, and began to roll her leggings down, very, very slowly. He groaned when he saw her black lace panties begin to appear. She watched his face as she stripped in front of him, as turned on by his reaction as he was by her performance. He pulled her back onto the bed the second she had one leg free of the clinging material. He was certain he could manage the rest.

They managed to relieve each other of their few remaining articles of clothing, much more interested in getting them out of the way than in where the pieces ended up afterwards. Completely naked in each other's arms, Mercy felt more than physically open to him. Emotionally, she felt more vulnerable than she had ever been in her life. She clung to him, her face pressed against his neck. Then she lifted her face to his, and his lips met hers in a deep kiss. _Next time, maybe we'll manage to take a little more time to explore, but, we need this now_, she thought, looking up at him rising naked above her. As he plunged deep inside her, Auron thought to himself, _I need you now. Tomorrow be damned_.

The sensation was so intense, she felt so tight, so right, he had to force himself to hold completely still, fighting the almost overwhelming urge to move, to thrust deep, over and over, but he wanted to make this first time last…and he was afraid that if he moved…it wouldn't.  
She felt…stretched…full and complete and waiting and empty all at the same time. She saw the cords standing out on his neck, his attempt to hang onto his control. _Love, I don't want you in control, I want you to lose control._ She tilted her hips slightly, taking him deeper inside. He groaned and rasped, "Lie still for minute. You feel so good. I want to try to make this last." He leaned down and kissed her, as her arms traced down his back, one hand reaching down to caress, and then to run her nails over his butt. He reacted automatically, his hips rocked, and she moaned with pleasure.  
His gaze met hers, as his control slipped away. A lascivious smile on her face, she whispered, "We have all night, love," just as she pulled his head down for a soul-stealing kiss. He felt her legs wrap around his waist, her feet in the small of his back, urging him on. He lost himself in her arms, in her sweet body, lost everything except his need, his desire, his love for this woman.  
She felt like she was in fragments that he was pounding apart and holding together, both at the same time, and that this was…just right, that this was exactly the way it was supposed to be, and she never wanted him to stop but she was almost there and she was so close, so close, and her eyes flew open and locked with his for a second, and then she climaxed, and in her mind and heart, it felt like she shattered into a million tiny pieces that he held together tenderly just by the strength in his arms and in his heart. But in the real world, she cried out his name, and her arms and her legs and her sex all tightened around him at the same instant, and his own release seemed to take him over the edge of the world.  
Sated and spent, he barely managed to ease his weight off of her, and tuck her in against his side, before they both slid into unconsciousness.

Her feet were cold, so she pressed them against the nearest source of heat, and tried to drift back into slumber. He tried to dodge the roving ice blocks in his sleep, and woke to discover that his own feet were hanging off the edge of the bed. They had fallen asleep, or more accurately, passed out, across the foot of the bed, on top of the covers. The bed wasn't quite wide enough to support his six-foot frame. He scissor-kicked and caught her legs between his, to keep her from putting her icy feet anywhere important, and woke her with a kiss.  
Her eyes finally opened. "Why are we sleeping at this end of the bed?"  
He chuckled. "My lady, I believe that this is…the furthest we were able to manage, a little while ago." Then he caught her eyes, and a devilish grin spread across his face. "But I would like to try and get the rest of the way onto the bed, before we try again." His grin was infectious, and she smiled wickedly back at him. Then she noticed his feet dangling over the edge of the bed, and started to laugh.

Straightening themselves out took some time, as well as finally separating his coat from the bedding, but eventually they managed to get settled properly onto the bed, with their heads where the pillows were, and under the blankets. She curled up against him, her hand idly tracing patterns on the hard wall of his chest. Near his left shoulder, she found a patch of scar tissue the size of her palm, remnants of a deep wound from long ago. She caressed it softly, asking, "When did you get this?" knowing it must have nearly cost him the use of his arm.

He kissed her forehead, cradled her against his side. "Five years ago. I'd rather not talk about it now." He found a long, straight scar running down her arm, and asked her the same question, wanting to distract her.  
"I was careless...no…I was too arrogant. I took on a challenge way outside my weight class in a tournament, four years ago." She laughed at herself, and pressed a kiss into his shoulder.  
"Did you win?" he asked in a teasing tone.  
She looked him up and down. "He was about your size. Show me your dojo sometime, and I'll let you try your luck. Then I'll tell you." _Don't pressure him into anything_, she warned herself.  
_If you're still speaking to me in the morning_, he reminded himself. From her next move, he believed that he had managed to keep the worry from his face.  
She grinned and pulled the blankets down a little further. She found another scar on his right hip, where it looked like it had been pierced by something long, thin and sharp, a blade of some kind. "What about this one?"  
"A knife fight with another student, when I was rather young." He turned and grinned at her. "But you should have seen the other guy." He tried to suppress it, but they both started laughing.

He rolled on his side to face her, and drew her close, pressing her face against his chest. He wondered_, what will happen in the morning? What if there is only this night?_ He brought her head up to touch her forehead to his, and then he kissed her, gently at first, then with increasing passion. There was still plenty of night left. _And maybe_, he promised himself, _some of the morning, before I have to tell her_. This second time, they were able to continue their exploration of each other before need consumed them. With Mercy sleeping peacefully beside him, Auron realized that he now knew the answer to his earlier question. The difference between having sex and making love was so very simple. He pressed his lips against his lover's forehead, and smiled gently. _Joy. That was the difference_.

…Spira…Macalania Travel Agency

Auron lay awake alone, in a cold, empty bed, at the Macalania Travel Agency. He was so aroused; it was almost as painful as the ache in his heart. _I must be the only man in Spira who has erotic dreams of his own…_he groaned, but instead of finishing the thought, he got out of bed, and dressed, and went to stand outside in the bitter cold night.

End Chapter Nine


	10. If Only You Believe

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The title of this chapter is from the first line of the song Miracles, performed by Jefferson Starship.

* * *

Auron paced outside the agency until his blood cooled. The few fiends that approached during that time did not last long. After about an hour, he had calmed enough to return to his room. _Calm_, he remembered, _I was anything but calm that morning. I was so afraid that she would not believe me. Afraid of losing her_.

…Zanarkand…five years ago…

In the morning, they indulged themselves by sleeping in. Then they indulged each other. It was the most decadent morning Auron could ever remember in his entire life. He just hoped it wouldn't be the last such. Mercy was still snuggled dreamily in his arms when he finally managed to choke out the dreadful words, "I have something to tell you."  
She sat up instantly, pulling the sheet up to cover her breasts. "If you 're about to tell me you have a wife and kids in the suburbs, I swear I'm going to kill you," she said with menace.  
He was sitting too, now, facing her. "No. Nothing like that. I swear it."  
"You're not married?"  
"No, never. Well, almost, but I turned her father down five years ago."  
"Close doesn't count. As long as you're not married, or engaged, or have a girlfriend back home, or stashed someplace, now."  
"No. No one but you."  
She was slightly more relaxed, but still wary. He watched her as the thoughts clicked into place in her mind. At last she asked, "Does this mean you are planning to fill in the blanks?"  
"Yes."

He persuaded her to lie back down, first. He wanted to hold her while he talked. He wasn't sure which of them would need the comfort. _Maybe it will just make it more difficult for her to throw me out._ Eventually, he convinced her to lie under the blankets with him again.

He lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling as he cradled her close against his side. _How do I even start? Where do I begin? That's it…_He took a deep breath, then began hesitantly, "I noticed that you are interested in maps. Have you ever met anyone who has been outside Zanarkand?" Further outside than just the hills?"  
Her expression was shuttered for a second, then she said lightly, "Yes, of course. You." She propped her chin on his chest, so she could look at his face.  
He was afraid to meet her gaze. This wasn't going to be easy. "Besides me."  
She had to think about that for a while, so she laid back down, and tucked her head into the hollow of his shoulder. "No," she finally admitted. "Is it important?"  
"Yes, it is. Do you know of anyone who has ever even mentioned knowing someone who has been outside the city?"

She pondered that question even longer, unthinkingly winding a strand of his hair around her fingers as she did so. "No. I have never met anyone, except you, who has been further outside the city than the surrounding hills, or the harbor, or the nearby ocean." She chose her next words very carefully. "I have read accounts of travelers to other places, but except for you, no one in my personal acquaintance has ever mentioned another individual they have actually spoken with, face-to-face, who has had personal knowledge of any city, town, or village other than Zanarkand. You know, now that I think about it, it does seem kind of strange. Some people have talked of someone who heard of somebody who knew of a cousin of a friend, but that is rumor, not even hearsay." She raised herself up on her elbow, to look down into his face. Her eyes were wide open, expectant, and not a little afraid. She knew her world was about to change, even more than it already had. She chewed on her lower lip, and waited for him to get on with it.

He wanted to look away, to think of some convincing lie to tell her, but he was too far in now, and already too much in love with her to deceive her about something this crucial. _What the hell am I supposed to say now? I'm no good at this._ He brought his hand up to her face, rubbed her soft cheek with his knuckles, then opened his hand to cup the side of her face. She pressed her lips into his palm. "My lady," he choked, then repeated, "My lady, you have not met anyone else, or heard of anyone else, because there is no one else. There cannot be. This Zanarkand of yours is no longer a part of the world drawn on the maps in your office, or especially the one in your living room. Instead, it is part of a great summoning. It is almost impossible for anyone to enter here, or to leave." He closed his eye for a moment, and remembered Jecht.

"You are here," she whispered.  
"I promised Jecht I would watch over his son. You know that I always keep my promises."  
She was incredulous. "Jecht, as in Jecht, the Zanarkand Abes' Jecht?" As soon as she asked the question, she knew the answer from the look on his face.

"Lords and Ladies," she breathed. "Jecht was your other friend. You, and your Braska, and Jecht are the ones who made the journey you talked about. How did Jecht get from here to there? Where is there? How did you get here? Was it the same way? Auron, I always knew that your journey had a purpose. I could tell it was important to you. Will you finally tell me what it was? Wait a minute. What's a summoning, anyway?" She asked the questions so fast she was practically out of breath at the end.

"Mercy, I give you my word I'll answer all your questions. Promise me you'll hear me out before you make up your mind about any of it?" He framed her face gently with his hand; but his expression was desperate. "Promise me?" he repeated urgently.  
"I promise, love. Just tell me, please?"  
"Okay." He almost fell onto his back again, and dragged her down by his side. He was trying to give himself a few seconds to think of a place to begin. "When Braska and I met Jecht, he was locked up in jail, after he started a drunken brawl with the entire Bevelle city guard."  
"That sounds just like Jecht," Mercy said, bubbling with laughter.  
Auron had a horrible thought. _If she is one of Jecht's old girlfriends, I do not believe I could bear it_. "Did you know Jecht?"  
"I saw him play, but I never met him." Auron let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "But it sure sounds just like his reputation, which was bad and getting worse. If even half what I read in the papers was true, he was a raging alcoholic."  
"He was, but he sobered up. Eventually." One side of his mouth quirked up, remembering the shoopuf.  
"Why were you and Braska at the jail? Were you locked up too?"

"No. We were there to get Jecht out. Taking him with us on the pilgrimage appealed to Braska's sense of irony. I thought Jecht would get us all killed before we ever reached Zanarkand, and that Braska was out of his mind to even think of taking him along. But Braska was the Summoner, and I was just the Guardian, so it was his decision." Auron sighed with remembered resignation.

He felt her try to shake her head into his shoulder. She got back up on her elbow. "What do you mean, reach Zanarkand? I thought you just said it was nearly impossible to get here from wherever it is you came from. Were you trying to get here, even then? What's a summoner? You were 'just the Guardian', but what does that mean?" He could hear the frustration in her voice.

He felt like he was making things worse with his attempt at an explanation, then he remembered the map again. "Wait, let me get the map from the living room. It is a true one. The ones in your office are all distorted." He gently disengaged himself, and then rose from the bed in one fluid motion. He began to walk towards the door, completely naked, and totally lacking in self-consciousness regarding his state of undress.

Mercy was sure that she had never seen a man with a more beautiful body, or, it appeared, one less aware of the fact. His torso was marked with a random pattern of scars, but they did nothing to detract from the vision of masculine power and grace currently moving through her bedroom. Her breath caught, and he turned his head, to see if something was wrong. The swinging curtain of his hair revealed the back of his left shoulder, and she saw the other side of the scar she had noticed earlier. _Lords and Ladies, whatever did that must have gored his shoulder clean through. How did he survive?_ Her love and concern for him showed on her face.

He came back to her, tipped her head up with his hand, leaned over, and pressed his lips lightly to hers. "Do not be concerned, my lady. That wound closed over long ago." _Unless you reopen it today_.

She essayed a small smile. "Go, get the map. I want to understand." He nodded, and went to fetch the map down from the living room wall.

He returned quickly, effortlessly carrying the huge, glass-covered map in its heavy wooden frame. She looked on as he carefully balanced the top of the massive thing on the headboard of her bed, knowing that she would never see this 'decoration' in quite the same way again.

Auron looked into her eyes, knew she was waiting for him to begin, and he just…couldn't. He couldn't think of a single thing to say. He tried to swallow, and found that his throat was so dry he started coughing instead. He was almost relieved, as it bought him some time to think. Mercy bounced off the bed and got them both some water, since she had a feeling this was going to turn out to be a long explanation.

He drank the water almost greedily, using the glass to shield his face for a few precious seconds while he tried to work out a way to tell her the rest of what he needed to say. Then he gave up trying to think his way through and just started to talk. "This," he began, pointing at the map, "is a map of Spira, the spiral. This is the world I come from." He knelt on the bed, with Mercy sitting tailor-fashion beside him.

He pointed to a large circle at the tip of the southern continent. "This is Luca. It is the second largest city in Spira. I grew up near there." Next, he indicated a large square on the isthmus that separated the two continents. "That is Bevelle, where Braska and I first met Jecht." Auron turned his head, locked his gaze with hers, and then he leaned over and kissed her. He realized he had to say the words, once, just in case. "My lady, I love you."

Mercy's eyes opened wide in astonishment, and wonder. "I love you, too, Auron." She stroked his rough cheek with her hand, and saw his tension increase, not decrease. _What is he going to tell me that is that bad?_

Auron caught her hand, pressed a kiss into her palm, and then turned his face away and took a deep breath. His heart was pounding, and he had broken out into an icy sweat. He could almost feel the wind on Gagazet again, blowing through the room. He shivered, and Mercy placed one hand on his back, as he stared blindly down at the map. His voice was a flat monotone when he eventually pointed to a star at the top of the northern continent, "This is the location of the ruins of Zanarkand. Nearly a thousand years ago, there was a great war, between Bevelle and Zanarkand. Bevelle had superior armaments, including machina weapons. Zanarkand used summoners to call powerful creatures who fought with their armies. The machina were more powerful, and more numerous. The outcome was inevitable."

Mercy kept her hand on Auron's back, desperate to maintain some physical connection to him. He looked so lost as he talked, and so bereft. And she felt utterly lost herself. She wanted to cling to him, but that didn't seem to make any sense. If she rejected him, and rejected what he was saying, she could pretend none of this had happened, and forget this whole story. But she would have to forget him as well, and she was already too much in love with him to do that. So she sat beside him, with her hand on his back, and her fist in her mouth, to keep herself from crying out until he was done.

He looked down at the map, and realized he didn't need it anymore. He sat back and shifted his legs around restlessly, finally stilling himself in position with one of his knees drawn up to his chest with his arms clasped around it, his chin resting on his bent knee. His eye was firmly closed, he was afraid to see the expression on her face as he continued. She had remained in contact with him as he moved, and now, her fingers were wrapped around his bicep, as she watched his face intently.

"Bevelle won the war, but it was a hollow victory. When the war began, they must have thought they would gain a city much like this one is now. They were wrong." He tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a strangled sob. "They began the destruction of the world."

Mercy didn't understand any of this, yet. She thought that when she did understand, she would also begin to weep. Her clutch on his arm turned into a stroking caress, as she silently offered her continued support.

"The city of Zanarkand was destroyed. It was completely deserted at the end of the war. It is…haunted, by the specters of its own past."

Her voice sounded very small, even to her own ears. "You are certain of this?"

"Of the exact events at the end of the war, no. But I have been to the ruins. In Spira, Zanarkand has been dead for a thousand years." He felt her rub her cheek against his arm. When she lifted her head, he continued.

"Before the war, Zanarkand had been the most beautiful city in Spira. It had been…this place. Those few who remained, seeing that their cause was lost, were unwilling to let their city go. So they did something, either very brave, or completely insane. It was something that could only have been done in Zanarkand. All the survivors walked to a valley in the hills south of the city. I suspect it marks the radius of the Zanarkand that you know. There, one summoner, or maybe a very few summoners, performed a sacred rite that transformed all of the remaining people into living statues, what we call fayth. Those fayth are being used to summon this city, which is their memory of Zanarkand, as it was at the height of its glory. They summoned every building, every street, and every person who existed before the war, and then poured energy into letting them live out their lives in a city that never slept, while the fayth watched, and dreamed. Those original citizens married, and had children, who have married in their turn, continuing the dreaming for almost a thousand years. Until Jecht…"

_I should think he is crazy. But I still think he is the sanest man I have ever met._ "What about Jecht?"

Auron's voice began to heat with some suppressed emotion she couldn't identify. "Before the war ended, the Bevelle armies began to face a new enemy, a great monster that rose out of the sea and mowed down even their most powerful machina weapons. They thought it was a 'Doomsday weapon', a great beast called by the leader of Zanarkand, Yu Yevon, to defend the city as a last resort. Then Bevelle discovered that this great beast was also attacking the Zanarkand armies, and even coastal towns and villages on both sides of the war. They decided that either the beast had a mind of its own, or no mind at all. They called it 'Sin'. We still do, a thousand years later. It is the scourge of Spira."

She gasped. "It's still around? No one has been able to kill it in a thousand years?"

"Sin cannot be destroyed, at least not by any method that has yet been found. Between the ravages of the war, and the rampages of Sin, Spira was in chaos. A religion sprang up based on the premise that Sin was the people's punishment for using machina, and the use of machina was restricted for the first time. Lady Yunalesca, the daughter of Yu Yevon, and her husband, Lord Zaon, emerged from hiding some time after the destruction of Zanarkand. She claimed that she had been studying Sin, and that she had found a way of destroying it. Lady Yunalesca was the last of the summoners of Zanarkand. She proposed that she and her husband would go to the ruins of Zanarkand, and that she would turn her husband into a living fayth, and that together they would have the power to defeat Sin, even though they both expected to die in the process. For about twenty years, everyone thought it had worked, and people began to rebuild. Then Sin returned. It always returns. The cycle always continues." His voice turned leaden with his final words.

Mercy felt his anger, and his pain. She just couldn't make everything coalesce into anything that made any kind of sense. "Auron, I'm still lost. Help me."

His frustration with the whole situation in Spira, combined with his fear of losing her, boiled over. Auron picked up an empty water glass and threw it against the wall. Mercy cried out as the plastic glass bounced on the floor. "I'm sorry. I'm so damned sorry. I'm explaining this so badly. Sin can't be destroyed. But it can be calmed for a few years. The temples, the damned Yevon temples, figured out how to train summoners. Summoners go on pilgrimages to visit every temple in Spira. There is a fayth in every temple. When a Summoner is accepted by the fayth, they get the ability to summon the creature, the aeon, to fight in battle. Because of Sin, Spira is depopulated, and there are many wild animals, as well as fiends. Summoners take one or more Guardians with them on their pilgrimage, to protect them on the journey. A Summoner who is successful in their pilgrimage goes to the Zanarkand ruins to meet Yunalesca."

"Auron, you said she died a thousand years ago."

"I know. She did die. But she died alone. With no summoner to send her to the Farplane, she had two choices. She could either become a fiend, or remain on Spira as an unsent. She knew her plan had failed, that Sin was merely calmed, not destroyed. With her purpose to bind her to the world, she became an unsent, and waited for the first summoner to reach her." His voice was bitter. "Then she offered each summoner, in turn, the same choice she and Zaon had made willingly. Which guardian will you sacrifice?" He looked like he wanted to spit.

Her mind raced, trying to pull the pieces together. She didn't understand about the Farplane, but that could wait. "Braska was your summoner." It was a statement, not a question.  
"Yes. He was also my friend."  
"You and Jecht were his guardians." Another statement.  
"Yes."  
"Auron, how did Jecht get from here, this…dream city…to Spira?"  
"Sin. It is also able to use the power of the Zanarkand summoning. Using that power, it can travel between the dream sea and the real one."  
_Sin…the great monster in the sea…my parents? I can't deal with this right this second. One set of hysterics at a time._  
"When you began the pilgrimage, did you know that two of you would have to die at the end?"  
"No." Auron's head dropped into his hands. "All summoners know that they are sacrificing themselves if they…succeed. Only five have ever done so, in a thousand years. Yunalesca, Ohalland, Gandof, Yocun and…Braska. The journey itself is so dangerous that many fall along the way. No one knows how many change their minds and give up their pilgrimage. They are branded as failures." His voice dripped with sarcasm at his final words.

"But to answer your question, none of us knew that Braska would be expected to sacrifice Jecht or I as well. When we reached Zanarkand, I just wanted to stop Braska from sacrificing himself. I thought there had to be another way to defeat Sin. Braska hoped that maybe he would be the last one, but it was a false hope. Jecht volunteered to be the fayth. He said he'd think of a way to stop the cycle. He made me promise to come here, and take care of his son." Auron's voice nearly broke.

"What happened next?"

"They went into a room with Yunalesca, I stayed behind; pacing the floor, going out of my mind. Braska came out with a light in his eyes. Jecht was gone, inside Braska, a living fayth. We went outside, and faced Sin. Braska called his new aeon, Jecht. Jecht did what all Final Aeons do; he killed his Summoner and beat Sin. Then he became Sin, and fled into the sea. I ran back into the Zanarkand dome…and I…tried to avenge their deaths by killing Yunalesca." Auron let out a short bark of laughter. "Jecht was right, it was the stupidest thing I ever tried to do. She struck me down with a single blow. After a thousand years, I believe she may be mostly fiend, now."

Mercy thought something didn't sound right. Auron sounded like he had talked to Jecht after Jecht had become the fayth, and then became Sin. But it had also almost sounded like he thought Jecht had died at one point. _Did any of that make any sense?_

Auron pointed at the map again. "Early in the pilgrimage, Braska had asked me to make sure that, when it was done, his daughter Yuna was taken from the temple at Bevelle to the island of Besaid. I was alone in Zanarkand, with this," he pointed to the scars on his face, "Along with a broken collarbone, a couple of busted ribs, and a punctured lung. I knew I was dying. But I had given both Braska and Jecht my word that I would see to their children, so I set off over Gagazet." His realized that his hands were shaking, so he desperately tried to will them to stop.

No. Someone must have found him, fixed him up. He is here. He can't be dead. I didn't just spend last night…and this morning…making love with a ghost. Wait, what did he call that Yunalesca bitch? Unsent? Is that it? This is perfect. He might be dead, and he thinks I am just a dream. I really think I'm going to get hysterical soon.

"I also picked this up," indicating the scar that went through his left shoulder, "Just before I reached Bevelle. Kimahri found me right after I killed the beast that gave it to me, but we both knew that I was done for. He was leaving Gagazet himself, so he agreed to take Yuna to Besaid for me. Kimahri left me, and went to get Yuna, and…I…died. I chose to become an unsent. Jecht was now the new Sin. He met me at the water's edge, and brought me to his Zanarkand. We talked along the way, and formed a plan." He wondered, _is she going to let me get dressed before she throws me out, or is she going to shove me out the door naked and throw my pants out after me? _He looked into her face, trying to guess what she was thinking, but he was too caught up in his own emotions to be able to read hers.

She felt like her world was coming apart at the seams. _I'll save the hysterics for later. Lords and Ladies, he's even more frightened than am I. This is all true. I feel it somehow. The way that the terrible things you dread are the ones that come to pass. He skipped over his being unsent. We'll have to get back to that later. I think whatever is coming next is worse for him, even than that. How do I let him know that he's not going anywhere for a while?_ "Auron, let's get the map off the bed and lie back down. Okay?"

He didn't even answer in words, just grabbed the map from the bed and propped it against the nearest wall. By the time he turned back to her, she had already lain down on the bed and was holding the covers open for him to slide in next to her. The relief on his face was so intense; it was almost a caress in itself. But as he settled in beside her, she shivered and asked, "Are you alright? Your skin is like ice."

He cuddled her close. "This brought back too many bad memories." He didn't say that he had been afraid she would show him the door, or maybe the window, but he thought it.

They held each other a long time, drawing warmth from each other's bodies, and comfort from the closeness that they shared. As he cradled her in his arms, rubbing his cheek against her hair, he felt her hands stroking his back; she was trying to soothe him just as he was attempting to do the same for her. Auron finally realized that, far from throwing him out, Mercy didn't seem any more willing to let him go than he was to let her go.

He drew his head back far enough so that he could look into her eyes. He brought his hand up to brush her cheek with his knuckles, and saw that his hand still trembled. He let his hand rest on the back of her neck. Her fingertips caressed his face. The expression on her face filled him with wonder.

"You believe me?" he whispered, his voice shaking.

She smiled at him. "Of course I believe you. And I believe in you." Suddenly, her eyes filled with tears. "But I also have to believe. Your Sin killed my parents, didn't it?" Her tears spilled over, and as he wiped them away with his hand, he nodded.

After she recovered, she lay down on her back on the bed, and stared up at the ceiling. "Auron, there's something I have to tell you. I think I've seen the barrier. The one at the boundary of the city."

He propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at her in shock. "When? Where? How did this happen?" He sounded almost frantic.

"It's three days hike from here, at least for me. About two years ago, I felt so restless, I could hardly stand it. I had some leave coming, so I took a week off, and went hiking."

"Alone? Woman, are you planning to drive me insane? You went camping outside the city alone?" He flopped onto his back. "Why does your brother bother to worry about you walking around the city alone at night?" he questioned the ceiling rhetorically.

At first, she just grinned at him, pleased that she understood what the sudden change in attitude was all about, and actually enjoying it. "To answer some of your questions, yes, I was alone, yes, I am planning to drive you insane, and, for your information, I was very well armed, but I didn't have any problems, anyway. I hiked south along the road for three days, and was about to descend into this really weird fog. It was so dense, I couldn't see my hand in front of my face. I camped overnight, by a stream a little ways outside the fog, thinking it would burn off in the morning, but it didn't, so I just turned around and came home. I thought it was really weird weather, until today."

Auron pulled her back against his chest, and thought about what Mercy had just told him. Not only about the barrier, but about all of it. Two years ago, he had just recently taken over the dojo from Sensei Hikaru. He had been the one feeling especially restless. He had suddenly been the one teaching all the classes, including the children's classes, which he still hated. For the first time in his life, he had been beset by financial concerns, and he had been longing desperately to escape into the hills surrounding the city, but had been too duty bound to do so, even for a day. So instead, Mercy had been the one who had fled outside the city, and had found…the limits of Zanarkand.

"My lady, I think you may be right. I believe you did find the barrier. The distance seems correct. Sometime, when we can both leave the city for a few days, you must show me this place." His arms tightened around her. _It has to be sometime in the next five years, or it will be too late_, he realized. _I must tell her the rest, before my courage fails me._

"Auron, will you tell me the rest now? I know there's something more. Something that hurt you. Or something that you think will hurt me." She got a good look at the expression on his face. "Or is it both?"

"There are no temples here. No gods, no religion." He wasn't asking questions, he was making statements.  
"None," she replied. _I think Spira is a spiral because no question about it ever has a straight answer. Ever._  
"On Spira, there are several major temples. There are priests everywhere. There is one religion. Anyone who does not belong to it is either a traitor or an outcast. The teachings of Yevon are law. They must be obeyed without question. Yevon is worshipped as a god. Everyone is taught to believe that Sin is their punishment for using machina, and that if they atone for their sins, someday, a summoner will defeat it and it will not return. It is all lies. Jecht became Sin because Yu Yevon, the last great summoner of Zanarkand, created Sin. As long as summoners use the Final Summoning, Sin can never be destroyed, because Yu Yevon will always take over their summoning. He was the greatest summoner Zanarkand ever produced. Yevon is not a god, Yu Yevon created Sin. Sin has nothing to do with our using machina. I even wonder if the priests have known all about this from the very beginning. Their only interest is in feathering their own nests." Auron's disgust was palpable.

"So what is your plan?"

Her question brought him back to her with a sharp stab of pain. "Jecht is Sin, now. When each new guardian becomes Sin, there is a period of peace, the Calm. This is the time when the guardian fights Yu Yevon for control. How long the Calm lasts varies, depending on the bond between guardian and summoner, and the strength of the guardian's will. Once the Calm is over, Sin starts wrecking havoc in Spira again. Then summoners begin pilgrimages again, trying for another Calm. Even after the Calm ends, Jecht will still have some control over some of his actions, but less and less as time passes. After Jecht learned that Yu Yevon controlled Sin, we knew that any solution required that Yu Yevon be destroyed, not just Sin. I've thought about this a great deal the past five years, and I believe it requires destroying Sin without the Final Aeon, but I am not even sure that this is possible. I think there may be other…difficulties, as well, because of the other aeons that exist in Spira. It might not be enough. And, we will need a summoner. I am afraid it might be Braska's daughter. In five years, Yuna will be seventeen." The expression on his face looked like grief for one already dead.

"Auron, what happens in five years?" Now, it was Mercy's turn to sound anxious.

"Jecht believes that his son needs to go to Spira, to complete what he started. But Jecht wanted to give Tidus a chance to grow up first. In five years, he will return to take me and the boy back to Spira. I know Jecht. He will do it. But…I cannot tell Tidus any of this. He hates his father. The boy will not come willingly. And…I do not believe Jecht will have a great deal of control left by then. He will wreck this city when he comes for us. Many lives will be lost in the devastation." _Maybe even yours, my lady, and I will not be able to protect you_, he thought in anguish.

The stricken look on Auron's face matched hers. _Five years, we have five years_, she thought. A line from an old poem surfaced from the depths of her memory. _'And at my back I always hear, time's winged chariot, hurrying near.' In five years, that chariot will carry him away. He will go, no matter what. He gave his word, and he will keep it._

_I have to ask this, I have to ask_. "Auron, you said that this city is a dream. Am I a dream?" her voice quavered.

"I don't know. I think you are more than just a dream, now. Jecht definitely is. He not only came to Spira, he became Sin. Sin is…the defining reality of Spira. It is certainly not a dream. Jecht believes that Tidus must come to Spira to break the cycle, so his son must also be more than a dream. Or maybe, he will be when he gets there. Your life has already been touched by Sin, so you must be more, too. Or at least…it is possible. But this city is a dream, except to those who live here. To them, it is completely real. And their souls are their own. When Tidus' mother died, her soul went to the Farplane. I felt it go."

"Auron, what, or where, is this Farplane you keep talking about?" _Maybe I'll finally get an answer to this one question, at least. The other, I can't make any sense of it. I don't feel like a dream. I just feel too wrung out to take much more of this._

"The Farplane is where the dead reside. In Spira, Summoners send the souls of the newly departed to the Farplane. Otherwise the dead usually become fiends."

"Auron, you said usually. You didn't become a fiend. And you said Tidus' mother made it to this Farplane of yours, but there are no Summoners here."

"If a person is able to accept death while they are still alive, they can reach the Farplane even without a Summoner. Tidus' mother just…didn't want to go on living, so, she did not. She sought death, and she found it. I found death, but I could not let go of living. I still had…promises to keep. I could not keep them if I went to the Farplane, or if I became a fiend, so…I did neither."

He knew that her frame of reference was different from his, but still, he still had to ask the question that plagued him most, the one that would be most important on Spira, "My lady, I am an unsent. Does that not trouble you?"

"Auron, it makes me glad."  
His expression was thunderstruck. _Maybe she was the crazy one_.  
She shook her head, aware that he could not see this from her perspective. "You wouldn't be here if you weren't," she said simply.

Then she was very serious. "It is much more troubling that 'all this'", she gestured around her, "the world as I know it, and possibly my life, will end in five years, when Sin comes for you and the boy. She was silent for a moment, trying to shield her thoughts from her face. _I think it may be too late already. When you go, I think maybe my world goes with you_. Aloud she said, "If we only have five years, we had better make the most of them." She was smiling as she kissed him, and for a brief time they were able to keep the future and all it held at bay, but as they made love, he was able to taste the salt of her tears.

…Spira…Macalania Travel Agency

He paced his room alone, in the Travel Agency in Macalania, and realized just how much Mercy must have trusted him, believed in him. He ran his fingers through his hair, rubbed his face with his hands, and realized that his own cheeks were wet with tears. He went to the water basin and splashed cold water on his face. _Trust. Faith. Mercy believed me based on nothing but my own bare word. At least Jecht and Tidus had both already been here in Spira when they had been forced to face the fact of its existence. Mercy had nothing much to go on except my word. And she took me at my word for five years, and now I am here, and she is gone._ _I would rather have been a liar, or insane. Anything would have been preferable to the truth._

_But how can I let Yuna marry Seymour? I do not trust Maester Seymour. I would not trust Seymour with the care of a squatter monkey, let alone Braska's daughter. I certainly do not trust him to negotiate in good faith with Yuna, so why am I allowing this to proceed? I wish Mercy were here. She would know what to say to Yuna, where I do not. I wish Mercy were here._ Hot tears mixed with the cold water that still streamed down his face.

End Chapter Ten


	11. Slow Hand

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The songs "Anticipation" and Coming "Around Again" were written and performed by Carly Simon, and "Slow Hand" was written by Michael Clark and John Bettis, and performed by The Pointer Sisters and I don't own them, either.

* * *

Auron had already stood his watch for the night, now it was Kimahri's turn. Thankfully, the desert sands showed intruders long before they arrived. He thought back to the episode under the lake ice, where Rikku had chided him for his remarks to Yuna. The little Al Bhed had been correct. It had not been necessary for him to take his frustrations out on his summoner. Was he any better because he was the only one listening to his regrets? Only his weren't regrets...merely memories…

…Zanarkand…Five years ago…

Mercy had to say no when Auron asked her to dinner that night. "How about tomorrow night?"  
"Why not tonight?"

"I have to meet Daf to decide on a play list. It's tradition." They were in the shower by this time. She was trying to get cleaned up while he was doing his best to be…distracting. She barely made it out of the apartment in time to meet her brother, while Auron went back to his place to change. He had invited her to come to his dojo the evening after next to work out. He really wanted to see what she could do with those swords of hers. In return, she had made him promise to give her a good workout to make up for the one she had skipped that afternoon. As he looked around his austere apartment, he had a clear picture of exactly how he wanted the workout to end. He grinned at himself in the mirror in anticipation as he shaved.

As she hurried to meet Dafydd she had an idea. _Can Auron take me with him, back to Spira, when the time comes? I'll just have to ask him_. Meanwhile, five years seemed a long way off.

They were planning to open with 'Anticipation' but she almost changed her mind when she saw the crowd. Not only was the place packed, but also Servo, the little weasel, was at a wall table, six rows back. He was a scout/booking agent/manager for a noble house that owned several clubs around town that actually signed acts. _Lords and Ladies, we're being scouted!_ _Maybe I shouldn't after all… No. If I can't hit that note tonight I never will…_

When she and Daf got their cue to go onstage, she walked by Auron's table, put her arm around his shoulders for a moment and kissed him lightly, for luck. He hugged her briefly, one-armed, in response. She climbed the stairs to the makeshift platform. Dafydd began the opening bars for 'Anticipation'; in spite of Mercy's reservations, it was a good opening number. The audience could think it was at least in part about the performance. And, as she looked over at Auron, he could see that some of it was meant for him, alone.

And tomorrow we might not be together  
I'm no prophet, I don't know nature's way  
So I'll try to see into your eyes right now  
And stay right here, 'cause these are the good old days. 

And as she sang, her voice soared, and she pulled the high note out of the stars. Auron found himself praying to whoever might be listening, "Please let her reach the Farplane. Please."

They did two more, one soft, one where she could strut on stage, for fun, then 'Coming Around Again', which fit her voice, and her mood:

And I believe in love  
But what else can I do  
I'm so in love with you 

The crowd kept applauding, louder and louder, after each number. That had been the fourth. They were supposed to do five, but the manager caught their eyes after this one and held up six fingers. She and Daf looked at each other and nodded. They did six, closing with Seven Wonders. _This is getting to be a tradition_, Dafydd thought to himself, _but it's worth it to see her glowing again_. The crowd didn't want to let them go. After the usual "Good night," the packed house got to its feet and started shouting, "Encore, encore!" Mercy and Dafydd found themselves trapped in the glare of the houselights, surprised, delighted, and more than a little stunned. They didn't have a seventh song specially programmed into the machine that provided their instrumentation, just leftovers from the last few nights. They weren't sure what to do.

Auron just wanted to get her out of there. Mercy was positively glowing, and he wanted her all to himself, preferably as soon as possible. If he could just think of one of the songs from the night before, she could sing it and they could go. He only remembered the title of one song besides 'Seven Wonders', since music as mass entertainment was virtually unknown on Spira. He used his cupped hands to make his voice carry over the crowd noise and called to her, "Do Slow Hand." He realized his mistake as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Her grin was the wickedest thing he'd ever seen that wasn't actually evil. She turned to Dafydd and he nodded, certain that the instrumentation was still in from the night before.

Where last night the song had been a question, tonight it was an affirmation. Anyone in the audience with eyes knew that the man who had requested the song was the one Mercy was singing about. As his face flamed, Auron discovered he could still blush. Then, as he watched her prowl across the stage, listened to the beat of the music, heard her sing the suggestive lyrics just for him, all his blood rushed south. He found himself shifting restlessly in his seat, unable to find any way of adjusting himself with the entire audience avidly watching him try to devour her with his gaze.

Mercy sang, she teased, she tormented, she tortured. All for one man; for that glazed, hot-eyed look of desire on Auron's face. She purred the certainty of the night before into the last verse:

'Cos I got a man with a slow hand  
I got a lover with an easy touch time  
Not come and go in a heated rush  
I've found somebody who will understand  
I've found a lover with a slow hand

As she started to sing the fade-out, she crooked her finger at Auron, motioning him to come up towards the stage. He started to shake his head, not wanting to be any more on display than he already was. Or display any more of himself than he already was. But the need to get her off the stage as quickly as possible overrode all other considerations. He stood, and walked up to the edge of the platform.

I got a lover with a slow hand  
And I get all excited with his easy touch  
I've found somebody who will spend the night  
Not come and go in a heated rush  
I've found somebody who will understand  
I've found a lover with a slow hand

As she sang the last, soft note, Mercy leaned over Auron with a seductive smile on her face and slid her arms around his neck. He couldn't help himself; he took her mouth in a deep, possessive kiss as he hauled her off the stage, letting her wrap her arms and legs around him while he carried her from the room, the crowd applauding wildly, as though it were part of the act. He took her into the Green Room, which was thankfully empty; since the other performers had gone into the club to see the show they had just given on the stage, which meant they would all miss the one in here. Auron set Mercy on the edge of one of the tables. They finally came up for air, and both tried for some self-control. At least enough to manage to walk back to her place, where they could forget about it for the rest of the night. But he was still standing between her open thighs, and her legs were around his hips, her arms still around his neck. Even fully clothed, they were driving each other very close to the edge.

She looked up. "Hey, Auron. Why did you do that? I mean, I was just teasing. I hoped you might carry me out, but I didn't really think you would. But, wow!" Her voice was breathy, and she knew she was talking too fast.

His cheeks stained dark red. "I wanted to get you out of there, before someone decided to call for another song." He paused, his breath still choppy. "And after that…performance, I wanted everyone to know you are mine," he whispered hoarsely.

She tilted his glasses up to the top of his head, then placed her hands on either side of his face, locking his gaze with hers. "And you are mine," she whispered back, just before she kissed him again.

Back on the stage, Dafydd had blinked several times in astonishment, but he recovered himself, bowed, and exited the stage amidst thunderous applause. The booking agent, Servo, had followed quickly after him into the Green Room. The agent had a business proposition to discuss with Mercy and her brother, and did not care what he had to interrupt in order to discuss it. Even though Auron's back was to the door when they entered the room, Dafydd was perfectly well aware exactly what had been going on. As Mercy jumped off the tabletop to talk business with Servo, Dafydd stared Auron down across the room. "Don't you dare hurt her," was written clearly on Dafydd's face. Auron nodded, grateful that he did not have to reply in words, as he moved to stand behind Mercy.

The business didn't take long, at least for the preliminaries. The lawyers would be looking things over Firstday morning, but it looked like Mercy and Dafydd would finally be getting paid to perform, Thirdnight and Fifthnight. Now that the negotiations were over, and the little weasel was gone, Mercy leaned against Auron, boneless in relief. "Let's go home," she said to him. Auron smiled gently down at her in reply. Dafydd noticed that she was referring to her apartment as though it was home to both of them. _Maybe it is_, Daf thought. _If so, somebody sure works fast_.

On the way 'home' Auron was struck by an inspiration. "Come with me tomorrow."  
"Where?"  
"I usually spend Lastday afternoons with Tidus. Come with me, meet the boy," he implored.  
"Are you sure?"  
"Yes."  
"Okay." _What have I gotten myself into now? _Inwardly, she was scared half out of her wits. _Tomorrow could be a disaster.  
_Then she noticed the bag he was carrying. "Auron, what's in the pack?"  
"Clean clothing", he replied, careful not to be too specific. He knew it was presumptuous, but he wanted to stay as long as she would let him, and this would be simpler.  
"Oh." She paused. "Good idea," she finally said with a grin. He grinned back in answer. And relief.

She was so happy; she practically danced at his side all the way home. Her dream, the dream she had almost forgotten, had finally come true. She kept shaking her head in disbelief, and smiling.  
"I still can't believe it. Headlining mid-sennight at a small club, and opening two nights later at a bigger place. Auron, you can't know what this means to me." She bubbled with happiness, as they rode in the elevator to her apartment.  
"I know it makes you happy," he replied, as he hugged her against his side.  
"Yes, but not as happy as you do." She smiled up at him, joy lighting her eyes.

The elevator doors opened, and they traveled the few feet of corridor to her door. Her mind suddenly veered into a new path. _Why is this happening now? After twenty years?  
_Inside her apartment, Mercy pulled off her jacket, and watched as Auron unbuckled his wide belt, hung his coat on the rack beside hers, and stuffed his glasses into one of the pockets. _I've been watching him since the day he walked into that coffeehouse, and I don't think I'll ever get tired of the view._ She noticed that he hadn't bothered to wear the bracer as he usually did. _When I'm onstage, I keep turning back to look at him. I sing to him. That's what's different. That's why it's now.  
_"It's you," she said aloud, as she slid her arms around his waist.  
He cocked an eyebrow. "Who were you expecting?" he asked, tightening his hold on her.

"That's not what I meant," she replied, in a light, teasing tone. "I was wondering why Servo showed up tonight. Why the contract thing came up tonight. Why the manager at the club last night said our act was getting 'hot' and he wanted us to do the full set. That's never happened to us before. And tonight, the encore..."  
A dull flush crept over Auron's face. "About that song..."  
"I sang for you." She brushed her fingertips against his lips.  
"I know. The entire audience knew." His face still burned at the memory. So did the rest of him. His hand fell to caress her bottom, to pull her hips in close, reminding her of what they had started earlier, back on that table in the Green Room of the club.

But Mercy looked up at him with such a mixture of desire, love and wonder on her face, that he waited to hear the rest of what she had to say. "Auron, I sing for you. I always sing for you. And that has made all the difference." She pulled his head down for a long, deep kiss, trying to make him lose track of the significance of what she had just said, but he had already heard it in her voice.  
With his next breath, he answered, "I love you, too."  
Then he swung her up into his arms, and started carrying her to bed. In mock seriousness, she admonished him, "This time, you'd better remember to take your boots off first." He started to chuckle, and then, threw back his head and laughed.

His armor was another matter. By the time he had finished watching Mercy strip off those shoes of hers…_it's something about the way she looks at me while she does it_…he was so far gone that his hands were shaking as he unclipped his armor. _Regular clothes would be simpler_, Auron thought as he fumbled with the clasps, _and a lot faster_, he concluded, as he pulled it over his head, and dropped it on the floor. Then Mercy tackled him, and he fell onto the bed with her on top of him, their laughter and kisses jumbled together until they were both breathless. They continued their loving exploration of each other far into the night.

Much later, Mercy dreamed she was caught in a terrible storm. The storm seized her and tore her apart. She didn't know whether she was drowning, being eaten, torn limb from limb by terrible winds, or worse. She shot up, screaming. Auron was awake instantly. "Love, it was a nightmare, you're awake now, hush, hush." He cuddled her in his arms; trying to get her to lie back down, so he could cover her with the blankets, warm her with his body. She was ice cold, shivering with shock, fear. Finally, she stopped shaking long enough that she could talk without her teeth chattering, but by then she was weeping, tears falling like rain.

"You can't take me with you, can you?" she sobbed, her arms locked around his waist.  
"How did you know?" He held her close, as tightly as he could.  
"That was the nightmare. You tried. Why didn't it work?"  
His own face was wet, tears spilling down his cheeks. He had to make several attempts before he could speak. "I've thought about it. Hell, I've tried to convince myself over and over that it would work. But it's too risky." He rubbed his cheek against the top of her head.

Her face was buried in his shoulder. "Riskier than staying here? How? Auron, you'll be gone. Or don't you want to take me with you?" She tried to shake her head, but he was holding her too tightly. "Wait, this is crazy. We've only known each other a sennight. It's not fair for me to ask you that. How can you possibly know the answer?"

He shifted her around, tilted her tear-streaked face to meet his own. "But my lady, I already do know the answer. I love you. I want to take you with me, for whatever time I will have left. And then I will wait for you on the Farplane until your time comes. Or for eternity, if necessary."  
"Auron, I love you too, but you're being cryptic again. What is this risk you're talking about?"

He cradled her close, pressing her head against his chest. "By the time Jecht returns for us, he will have been Sin for ten years. I do not know how much of the man I knew will be left inside the monster. Jecht always was a strong willed bastard, but that is all I can count on. His plan was to come for the boy, five years from now, because he believes Tidus can break the cycle. If his plan fails, he is certain his son hates him enough to kill him. He will bring the boy through unharmed. Jecht thinks he needs me to keep the boy alive long enough to do the job, so I will make it through in one piece."

Auron fell silent for a moment, gathering the courage to finish. She listened to the steady beat of his heart as he told her what he feared most. "But Sin's basic nature is that of a slayer. I would say a mindless beast, but I think it will be worse than that. Jecht was already in torment five years ago. Soon Braska's Calm will end, if it has not already done so. Jecht will be…ashamed of what the beast he has become will make him do. He may commit even more atrocities in order to ensure that Tidus or I will kill him, even if we fail to destroy Yu Yevon. I fear that, if I attempt to take you with us, Jecht will deliberately destroy you, solely for the purpose of torturing me. And you won't be able to reach the Farplane from that kind of sudden, violent death." Mercy could hear the tearing agony in his voice.

"But Auron, there are no summoners here. How can I reach this Farplane of yours?" She was desperate with the need to understand.  
His voice was a quiet, sad whisper. "You would have to accept your death before it came. Then your soul would be able to reach the Farplane, even without a summoner to send you."  
"I just wish there was another way," she murmured. _Lords and Ladies, blind acceptance was never exactly my best thing_.  
"So do I, my lady, so do I," he whispered back.

In the corner of the room, something blue shimmered for a moment, and was gone.

It took a long time for Mercy to fall back to sleep that night, but eventually, she slipped into an uneasy, but dreamless, sleep. Auron held her close through the night, awake until after the moon set. He finally let himself doze a little, but he was afraid to fall too deeply into slumber, in case she woke again. In the long, dark hours, he found himself repeating, over and over, "Please let her reach the Farplane."

…Spira…Bikanel

_Mercy was right_, Auron thought bitterly. _Those were 'the good old days'_.  
Kimahri glanced at the sleeping campsite, saw the dark warrior shake his head in anger, or regret. _Auron troubled by more than loss of Yuna_, the Ronso thought. _Kimahri wants to help, but he does not know what this trouble is. Must find Yuna first. Then maybe Kimahri can help brother warrior_. The Ronso continued to watch for what remained of the night.

End Chapter Eleven


	12. Hurt So Good

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The chapter title is from a song by John Mellencamp.

* * *

The second day the party spent crossing Bikanel, Auron found himself glancing repeatedly in Tidus' direction. The party was heading toward the Al Bhed sanctuary, hoping that they would find Yuna safely ensconced deep with the machina fortress. He was also aware that, at the moment, his position and the young man's were entirely too similar, each alone, each desperately missing a woman they loved. But as he recalled the start of Tidus' relationship with Mercy, Auron knew that on another level, they were both also missing the same woman, and had been from the moment they both had arrived in Spira.

…Zanarkand…five years ago

That Lastday morning he brought Mercy to meet Tidus, she was so nervous that she spent the entire trip wondering what to say to the boy. She wasn't able to fully absorb Auron's sarcastic comments that she needn't worry, that the problem was getting the kid to stop talking. But Tidus was totally speechless when Auron introduced them. The boy's expression was priceless, bearing an astonishing resemblance to a gaping fish.

When they arrived, Tidus emerged from his room and his jaw dropped in shock. _The old man, with a woman! What is going on? Who would have thought…? When had the world come to an end? Hey, what is he doing without that collar?_ As he came even closer to the couple, he received a further surprise. _Holy shit, they're even holding hands. The world is coming to an end._

"Boy," Auron announced, "I'd like you to meet someone. Mercy, this is Tidus. Tidus, Mercy." As Mercy held out her hand for the boy to shake, Tidus nervously wiped his palm on his pants and held it out to her. She shook it once, gravely, and let it go. Then they stared at each other for a long minute.  
_He's a cute kid_, she thought. _He'll definitely break some hearts when he gets a little older_. _I bet he would say he was 12 going on 13, if I asked. We're about eye-to-eye now, but that won't last_. He was almost blond, blue-eyed, with a heart-shaped face.  
Tidus thought she was really pretty, and he was amazed. _What is she doing with Auron? What can she possibly see in that old man? And he seems… different. For one thing, he's smiling, like, all the time. This can't be happening._

It had been Mercy's idea to take the boy to the zoo. She had thought it would give them something neutral to talk about. It did not take her long to discover the flaw in her plan. It had clearly been unnecessary to provide Tidus with a ready topic for conversation. He had absolutely no problem finding one on his own. _Hell, he had no problem finding a dozen on his own_. The boy barely slowed down long enough to take a breath. The only time he did stop talking was when he had just asked her a question, and was waiting for her answer. He asked lots of questions. _I feel like I'm one of the exhibits. Next, I swear, he's going to open my mouth and check my teeth! At least now I know why Auron laughed so hard when I said I was worried about what Tidus and I would talk about._ She looked up and caught Auron's attention, a slight smile on her lips. He cocked an eyebrow, as if to say, "I told you so." She winked back at him.

But to Tidus, so far it had been the most fantastic day he'd ever had with the old man. He couldn't remember the last time any adult had actually listened to him, talked with him, or answered his questions like this. This lady that Auron had brought seemed to be totally honest with him, too. If she didn't know something, she just said so. If she didn't want to tell him something, she said it wasn't his business, straight out. She took all his questions seriously, and actually listened to what he said. His aunt and uncle sure didn't. They were only interested in talking to the lawyers about his trust fund. They never wanted to actually talk to him. His old man, well, let's not go there. Auron always let him talk, but the boy didn't think he paid that much attention, except to make sure there was nothing seriously wrong. Trouble, the old man always took seriously. His mom, well, she had paid attention, at least, until Jecht left, but only when his old man wasn't around. This lady, Mercy, he knew she was really listening, because she answered his questions and she asked questions about the things he talked about. And, when she said it was none of his business, she said it even when he asked the same question an hour later a different way, so she must have been paying attention.

Auron had served as a mostly silent observer, watching and listening as the conversation, _or was it an interrogation…_ bounced from the boy to the woman at his side. At first, it hadn't seemed too difficult. It was easy for Mercy to trade Tidus' question of, "What do you do?" for the equivalent, "What are you taking in school?" But as the afternoon wore on, the boy's questions became more probing, and the kid was much too young to be subtle about it.

"You know, Auron isn't from Zanarkand," Tidus tried, mostly to see if this information surprised her.  
"I know," Mercy replied with equanimity. _Where is the kid going with this?  
_"He's always gloomy," the boy continued, thinking that since she was such a neat lady, she would be better off with someone besides the old man. But Auron was chuckling, which made a lie out of Tidus' words.  
"Try again," she answered, laughing a bit herself at the boy's puzzlement. Then she turned to Auron and smiled up into his face. Although the boy couldn't see the way Auron's fingers caressed hers, he could see the warmth of the man's smile, the soft look on his face as they exchanged glances for a moment, before she turned her attention back to him.  
It made Tidus feel uncomfortable to watch them, but he didn't quite know why. He blurted out his next question to Mercy before he could stop himself. "You…love him?" The boy's face turned bright red as soon as the words were out.  
_I can't believe he just asked me that._ Mercy stared into Tidus' face. _Looks like he can't believe he just asked me that, either. I'm not going to lie to him. That would spoil everything_. "Yes, I do."  
For some reason the boy didn't understand, it hurt a little to hear her say that. He stared down at the pavement as he continued walking. "Him?" the kid choked out, asking Mercy. Asking the man himself was just too scary.  
Auron answered, "Yes," so unexpectedly that Tidus didn't believe what he had heard for the first few seconds. Then the boy stumbled, as though the ground had shifted under his feet.

Mercy decided it was time to ask Tidus some impertinent questions for a change. She hadn't liked the atmosphere in his aunt and uncle's house. It was just too sterile for a place that housed a twelve-year-old boy. She remembered when Dafydd had first moved in with her. She had never been a neat freak, but the amount of 'stuff' in her apartment had grown, not arithmetically, but geometrically, all from the addition of one teenaged boy. The 'white-glove' cleanliness of the place where Tidus lived just didn't seem real. And she didn't think they'd cleaned up in anticipation of Auron's visit, since the tension in the room had made it abundantly clear that there was no love lost among the adults in the boy's life. _I wonder what that's all about?_  
"Do you like living with your aunt and uncle?" she asked Tidus.  
"S'okay," the boy replied, but somewhat reluctantly, and he didn't meet her eyes. "But I want to move out as soon as I turn sixteen," he finished.  
"What's your plan, then?" she inquired.  
"What do you mean, plan? I'll just, like, move out on my sixteenth birthday. It's simple." Auron stared down at the boy. This was the first he'd heard of this 'plan', but he wasn't surprised. It had been clear to him from the very beginning that the boy's aunt had no real interest in caring for him. _You failed him_, he chastised himself, as he had many times before.  
"I'm sorry, Tidus, but it's not that simple. You can petition the court to let you live on your own at sixteen, but you have to prove you can support yourself financially, you have to have responsible adults who will promise to look in on you regularly, and you must have a clear plan for how you will spend your life. The plan must be one that the court approves of."  
"How do you know?" the boy tone was somewhere between stubborn and accusing. He was angry at having his easy solution shattered by hard reality.  
Mercy gave him a short summary of her experiences with the family courts, both on her own behalf, and then the more complicated proceedings that she and Dafydd had gone through. In the end, she was able to convince him that she really did know what she was talking about. "So," she asked him, "now that you know the score, what's your plan?"

He thought about it for a few minutes as they walked, scuffing his toes in the pavement. "Money's no problem. My aunt and uncle only wanted to keep me to see if they could break into my trust fund. I'm just…just a walking piggy bank to them." His tone was much too bitter for a child. "It's one reason I want to leave. When I'm sixteen, I'll be able to sign some papers myself, and I'm afraid they'll try to force me or something. Better if I'm not there."  
Auron's gaze focused on the boy. "Have they ever tried to hurt you?" he asked sharply. _How did she get this out of him with just one question? He never talks to me this openly.  
_"No, no way. They know what you'd do to them if you ever found out. I think it's one of the reasons they don't like you hanging around. I think they're afraid of you, old man." Tidus couldn't resist that last, cheeky remark. He couldn't let Auron know how grateful he was that he came around every sennight, or how much it meant to him.  
"Adult supervision?" Mercy asked, trying to get the discussion back on track.  
"You guys, I guess." the boy said, trying to sound casual.  
_There are a world of questions in that one little sentence, aren't there, my young friend?_ Mercy thought as she looked back into Tidus' blue eyes. _And you know exactly what you're asking, don't you?_  
Nevertheless, she and Auron both answered simultaneously, "Yes."  
"But what are you going to do with your life?" came Mercy's final question.  
"Oh. That's easy. Blitz." The kid sounded just like his father, cocky, sure of himself. _Maybe too sure of himself_, she decided.  
Auron darkly muttered something that sounded like; "Practice more," but the boy ignored him.  
Mercy didn't. "You would actually have to be on a team, not just hope to be. You will have to be good enough, four years from now…"  
"Three and a half," Tidus interrupted.  
"Okay, three and a half years from now, to be accepted onto a professional Blitzball team, so you could petition the courts to live on your own. Or you could plan to stay in school, by the way. That also works," Mercy concluded.  
"That what you did?" the boy asked.  
"Yeah."  
"I'd rather blitz."  
"I know. But if you had to choose between being on your own by staying in school, or living with your aunt and uncle and having more practice time, what would you do?"

Tidus thought for a long time, still walking. Finally, he just choked out, "Oh, shit."  
"Pretty much," she replied.  
As they dropped Tidus at his aunt and uncle's place, late in the afternoon, Auron thought, _it has always seemed impossible to think of this as the boy's 'home'_, _now I know why_.  
Tidus started practicing blitz seriously the next week.

…

Meanwhile, on their way back to Mercy's apartment, Auron asked if she would help him select some clothing that would allow him to 'blend in' a little better. A grin split her face, and she practically jumped into his arms in the middle of the street, she was so happy.  
"I'll take that as a 'yes'," he said, smiling down at her.  
"You bet. Can we go now? I'm dying to get you out of that armor," she bubbled with enthusiasm.  
He cocked an eyebrow and pulled her close. "Maybe we should just go home," he whispered in her ear.  
"Later," she purred. "This will only take half an hour, once we get to the shops. I promise to make it quick and painless."

Mercy was as good as her word. They were 'home' in less than an hour, laden with parcels. When Auron left her apartment in the morning, he was dressed in plain black trousers, a black, collarless, long-sleeved shirt, and soft black boots. His clothing was somber enough to suit his taste, but was just similar enough to what other men wore that it performed the same function as his dark glasses, it allowed him to pass unnoticed. But he had purchased rather a lot of clothing the evening before. Once Mercy determined the correct size, she had essentially wiped out the store of everything in black in his size. _I wonder if she thinks I'm colorblind, and not just missing my sight in one eye. I think I saw one white shirt, and two red ones. But I do not care. I just placed all of it in her spare closet. I think I already have more things at her apartment than I do in my own. I'm not moving anything back unless she asks, and I do not believe she will, not now. I hope she won't. We only have five years. I do not want to spend any more nights without her._

…

The next sennight, when they went to pick up Tidus, Auron had been dressed in his new clothes. After just a few days, the new attire had become normal to him. But watching Tidus do his gaping fish imitation again had brought a broad grin to his usually solemn face.

…Spira…Bikanel Island

Tidus thought he caught Auron looking at him several times as they crossed the desert, almost as though the swordsman finally wanted to talk. _It's too late now, old man_, the blitzer thought bitterly. _I tried to get you to talk, at just about every inn and travel agency between Luca and Macalania, and you turned me down every damn time. But if what's eating you is what I think it is, right now, I think I know just how you feel_.

End Chapter Twelve

Author's Note: I just wanted to say a special thank you to my beta reader, Eva Harlow. I don't know how I would manage to do this without you.


	13. Hit Me With Your Best Shot

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The chapter title is from a song performed by Pat Benatar.

* * *

Auron rested his tired ass on an exposed pipe in the corridor outside the command center for the Al Bhed airship, thoroughly disgusted with himself. _That was not the most intelligent move I could have made_, he told himself sarcastically, g_etting into an argument with the ship's captain on his own bridge. I am fortunate that he did not throw me off the ship…while we were flying! By now, I should know better than to let my temper get the better of me. And for what? That wasn't even my fight. Yuna will do what she feels she must, without my 'assistance'. That was her battle to fight with her uncle; I just wish she were here to deal with Cid. And she is more than capable of fighting her own battles, now. She is much like Mercy, that way. In many ways, perhaps, but certainly in this, they are alike. Both fighters…_

…Zanarkand…five years ago

Auron asked her to come to his dojo, on a night when he didn't have any classes, to test her skills in the martial arts. When she arrived, Mercy went up the stairs to his apartment to change into her workout gear. As she passed through his bedroom, the only room, on the way to the bathing room, she couldn't help but notice that he had left almost no stamp on this space, after five years of living in it. _That's pretty hard to do_, she mused. _You have to be trying to leave so little of yourself in a place you live_. She brought up a mental picture of her own apartment, as it had looked just that morning. _I think he has more stuff dropped around my place in three days than he has here in five years. How'd he manage that?_ She thought for a few seconds. _He brings stuff over, and he never takes anything back_, she realized. _He's moving in, bit by bit, and waiting to see if I object. Hmm, I don't think I do_.

She had decided to change alone. It felt…right. She felt like she was about to be tested by a new teacher, whatever might happen after the lesson. She returned downstairs to the dojo, with its familiar mat floor and wall of mirrors, to find that Auron had also changed into a similar uniform; loose trousers, crossover tunic belted and tied at the waist, bare feet. He had also removed his glasses, as the dark lenses would only be a hindrance.

"Show me," he commanded when she stood in front of him, master now to potential student.

She first performed a series of stretching exercises, to limber up her muscles after a tense day behind a desk. _It feels so weird to do this with him watching me._ _I mean, he's seen me naked, for crying out loud! Now…I feel like I'm auditioning or something_. As soon as she felt 'warmed up', she switched from the stretches to the first kata, the opening form of the martial arts that she had practiced for so many years. She tried to let her mind flow with her body into the familiar movements, but at first, it was difficult to lose her awareness of the man watching her, and she felt stiff and clumsy. But somewhere in the middle of the third kata, mind and body became one, and her awkwardness vanished as though it had never been.

Auron observed as she moved through the first and second kata. He clearly saw the point in the third, where she ceased to be aware of his presence, that instant where she slipped inside the kata, as though it were a well-worn and familiar garment. _As it should be_, he knew from his own many executions of these exact same exercises. _But it was never this graceful when we practiced in the temple_. She completed the fourth kata, and moved on to the fifth. After the first two, these are always taught in pairs, he knew well. _She will probably stop after the sixth, then, _he decided. But as he continued to watch, he could see that she was working through the sixth kata in the manner that indicated that she was intending to continue on, to perform the complete kata, all eight parts. _If she has advanced that far, there is only one way I know of to test her skills_. He began a brief warm up of his own, while she finished the last two sections of the exercises.

By the time she had finished with the forms, he was ready for her. "I would like to see what you can do against a stronger opponent."  
"I bet you think this is going to be easy," she challenged.  
"We'll see," he answered calmly.  
_Too calmly_, she thought. _I'm sure_ _he thinks this is going to be quick. Why shouldn't he? He must have about eighty pounds on me, and a lot longer reach. But let's see if I can't prove him wrong…_

He did think it was going to be easy, until he found himself flat on his back on the mats within the first five minutes. He had tried to charge in, and she had used his own momentum against him. He'd ended up measuring his length on the floor. It had been his mistake; she had merely taken advantage of it. She stepped away from him and waited until he was on his feet before she told him, "Don't underestimate me like that again. You want to try this for real now?"

He just nodded, and they began to circle each other, sizing each other up as real opponents this time. Her style was based on her speed and agility, strike and elude, where his was based on strength, capture and strike. She fought by darting in, delivering a blow, and spinning away before he could strike back, although he was usually successful in blocking her. But he discovered quickly that her kicks hurt a lot worse than her arm or hand strikes. He kept trying to knock her legs out from under her, anything to slow her down. She was too quick, and she kept moving, running him around the room, trying to wear him down. They weren't bothering with a regulation fighting area, since this was hardly a regulation match. A couple of times, she had bounced off a wall, just to confuse him about which angle she was coming from. It had worked, and he would have the bruises to show for it in the morning. They were not trying to seriously hurt each other, but unsuccessful blocks tended to have negative consequences. He broke through her block one last time, with a blow that would have shattered her arm, if he hadn't pulled back at the last moment, then he took a half-step away.

"That is enough," he said, bending over to rub the bruise on his thigh, where she had kicked him after the last wall-bounce. "You proved your point." _She is good._ _She has taken this as seriously as someone can, someone who is not training to defend their life everyday, although she thought it might mean her life, once. She keeps up her training and her skills. Fighting together, we would make a good team_.

Sweat dripped from his face, ran down his chest. There weren't any towels nearby, so he untied his shirt and stripped it off, using the material to dry his head and upper torso. Her mouth went dry as she watched a bead of perspiration travel down the ridged muscles of his taut stomach and disappear under the waistband of his pants. She licked her lips and made a small noise, she wasn't certain if it was a moan, or a whimper. He dropped the cloth and stared at her, a sudden, devilish smile on his face. She blinked to clear her head, and thought, _two can play this game_, as she untied her own tunic, and held her arms behind her back to let it slide off. The low scoop neck of her sports bra caught his attention, so much so that she heard his breathing change. She raked her eyes over him again, and saw that his loose trousers were no longer loose at all. He looked up into her face, and she licked her lips again, more suggestively, deliberately teasing him.

Suddenly all of the aggression from that mock combat channeled itself into something a lot more primitive. He advanced towards her, and grabbed her by the waist and threw her over his shoulder, carrying her up the stairs, to his apartment. She thought about protesting the indignity of it all, but decided that was utterly ridiculous and started to laugh instead. Still laughing, she wrapped her arms around him and started kissing whatever part of him she could reach. He concentrated as best as he could on not falling down the stairs, but he was distracted by her bottom under his hand, all the way up the stairs. As soon as he reached the top, he started fondling her, and when his knees hit the end of the bed, he tumbled her onto it, almost throwing himself on top of her. Something under the bed groaned in protest, causing him to start chuckling as well. He could taste her laughter as they made love. It tasted sweet, like honey.

…

Three nights later, she came back to his dojo to work out, but Auron had a class in the studio at the time, so her swords remained in their case. By the time his classes were over, Mercy was tired, and he was glad of the excuse to walk her back to her apartment, and remain with her for the night. It was not until the end of the sennight, on his longest teaching day, that he was finally able to observe her sword work, and that did not come about in quite the way he had expected.

Auron left her apartment early in the morning, while she was still sleeping. She did not have to get up this morning, and if there was one thing he had learned in the last sennight, he had definitely come to a full understanding of Mercy's description of herself as "not a morning person", even this early in their relationship. He stood in the doorway to watch her sleep for a few minutes, a soft smile on his face, before he turned to head out, wondering when he would see her that afternoon.

Mercy arrived in the middle of the afternoon, so she was in the back, warming up, when he started teaching one of his least favorite classes, one of the large classes with children. This one had three little girls in it, all six years old, being sent because it was convenient for their parents, because they had slightly older brothers in the same class. This time, the three little girls spotted Mercy in her corner, limbering up, and stopped paying attention to him. They looked at each other, nodded, and turned to watch the 'lady', gradually drifting over to where they were observing her closely without actually getting in her way. Auron hoped they wouldn't disturb Mercy, and decided to just let her deal with the situation. He had enough problems at that moment, sixteen other students, including the girls' older brothers, who were hateful little terrors that he thought should have been properly disciplined at home, not sent to his class.

Mercy saw the little girls sidling towards her, and mentally shifted gears. She caught Auron's eye for a brief moment, saw the question in his raised brow. She shrugged one shoulder in answer, and nodded somewhat bemused assent. Then she ran through the basic forms as the girls watched her with wide eyes. She certainly had their attention. She executed the first form again, slowly. Then the opening moves. She broke the beginning down for them into its basic pieces. Then, she invited them to try it with her, going slowly to build their confidence. It was difficult for all of them, both the teacher and the students, and by the time the hour was over Mercy had lost count of the times she had wanted to scream with frustration, but, although she had come close to 'losing it', she hadn't…quite. The girls were beaming. All three promised to practice, to come back next Sixthday afternoon, and, heaven help her, to bring some of their friends.

Mercy stalked up to Auron as soon as 'her' students were out of the room.  
"How did it go?" he asked, trying to look innocent, but not succeeding. As soon as Mercy had come in, he had been hoping for just such an outcome.  
"When is your last class over?" her tone was challenging. She wasn't buying the innocent act.  
"This class coming in now is the last. One hour," he replied warily.

"Then I'll tell you later, after I work out some of my frustrations on you." Her face flushed angrily, both at herself and at him. _Damn it. That's not quite how I meant to say that.  
_The look on his face was not in the least innocent, as he reached out to hold her arm. "What kind of frustration are you talking about?" he whispered into her ear.  
"All kinds," she hissed back, still a little angry. "You just think about that for a while."

Mercy managed to get in a real workout while Auron taught his last class, a group of older teens who could sometimes be a real challenge, more for discipline than anything else. As the last one finally left, he locked the door and put the 'Closed' sign in the window. Mercy opened her sword case and took out her blades. Auron simply pulled one down from the wall. She'd lost most of her mad during her workout, so she wasn't really trying to kill him, and she knew she couldn't. But the idea of administering a nice, swift kick in his complacency still held a certain amount of appeal. Still, they both had to be very, very careful, as they were using live steel, and even an accident could get to be rather messy. She used her agility to stay out of his reach, and her crossed blades fended off his sword when he got too close. It was difficult for him to bring his superior strength to bear, since he did not want to wound her. "Damn it, woman, why won't you just stand still for two minutes?" he shouted.  
"Because they're all coming back next week," she yelled back. "And they'll be bringing their friends."  
"So? Why do you have to be here?" he asked, advancing on her.  
"Because I promised," she answered, just before she tried to get in under his guard again.

The fight became something like a dance, one that sent off a shower of sparks whenever their blades met. Eventually, he planned a series of moves that caused her to cross her swords near her face to block his stroke, bringing her hands close together. This gave him the opportunity he had been looking for. He switched his weapon to a one-handed grip, and caged her slender wrists in his other hand. Both breathing raggedly, they stared into each other's eyes. Uncertain of her temper, still holding her wrists, he bent and set his own blade to rest on the floor. Now, better able to mind the swords still gripped in her hands, he separated her wrists and held them down at her sides, still staring into her eyes, trying to read what was going through her head. _I'll never understand her_, Auron thought. _I still can't tell if she wants to kiss me, or kill me. If she catches me by surprise, she might manage either one. I certainly know which I'd prefer._

Mercy decided she had punished him enough. She stood on her toes, and brushed his lips with hers. He instantly released her hands, and she knelt and placed on swords on the floor beside his own. The moment she stood, he reached for her shoulders and pulled her against him. "Race you upstairs," she breathed in a throaty whisper, as she broke away and started for the stairs.

…Spira…Airship

_So many of our sparring matches ended in that bed_, Auron remembered with a hidden smile. _We had to replace the slats underneath two, no, three times in those five years_. His smile twisted slightly. _She did well with those girls, too. There were seven by the year's end, and more in the later years, as word spread. One of those first three eventually 'took care' of her older brother. That 'little girl' saved me a world of trouble_.

Then Rin rushed into the corridor, and stood beside him for several seconds, slowing his breathing and restoring order to his appearance, so as to give the illusion of being totally calm and unruffled when he stepped into the command center to announce whatever had sent him running up to this location. His presence forced Auron to return from his distant pleasant memories to more immediate and painful ones. _Fayth,_ _I can still see the look on Tidus' face, pounding his fist into the wall, while Valefor tried to comfort him. I can't seem to shut it out. I know we should have told him sooner. I should have told him sooner. I should not have let it go on this long. He loves Yuna, just as I loved…love…Mercy. At least, we had five years. It still wasn't enough. They only have a few weeks, at most. I do not know if I can bear to watch them go through what we went through. I do not know if I can stand by and watch it all happen again._

End Chapter Thirteen


	14. Song for You

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The song "Desperado" was written by Glenn Frey and Don Henley, performed by the Eagles. "Your Song" was written by Elton John and Bernie Taupin, and performed by Elton John. The chapter title is from a song written by Leon Russell, originally performed by the Carpenters.

* * *

Carefully balancing his weight against the side of the suspended jail cell, trying to keep the damn thing from rocking too much as a result of Tidus' occasional bouts of restless pacing. Auron remembered the first time he had toured this level, during his early days as a trainee among the warrior monks of the temple. _This was one of the few parts of the Palace where I could not hear the Hymn, either being sung or practiced, so I asked the instructor why this was so. He told me that prisoners who had been condemned to these cells were beyond redemption, and did not deserve the comfort of the Hymn. I am certain this means that Seymour and Kinoc have already decided our fate. I do not think I care if I ever hear the Hymn again. But, I believe I would sacrifice my soul, if I could hear my lady sing, just once more._

…Zanarkand…five years ago

The night before, Mercy had told Auron that she would go to Dafydd's house the next evening when she finished work. It was their regular night to practice, but, since this was the first time they had ever needed to decide on almost two full hours of music, two full sets as she had called it, she had expected to be there until quite late. She had provided him with the location of Dafydd's residence, and a way of contacting her if he wished, but it had been clear that this was a commitment that she must keep. He had commitments of his own; he had classes that he needed to teach that evening as well. It was not even necessary for him to concern himself with her safety on her way home, as Auron was certain that her brother would see to that himself, no matter how late the hour. All through the day, his thoughts kept drifting back to the lonely night ahead. _There is nothing upstairs except an empty bed. An empty life. Why did I never notice before? But what am I supposed to do? I cannot wait outside her building until she returns. But I can't get in without her keys and…entry codes. I must remedy that…soon. She gave me directions to her brother's…why? Did she hope that I would just…what…show up? Why are women such a mystery?_ His continued confusion made for a very trying day.

Mercy had arrived at Dafydd's townhouse, as she usually did, just in time for dinner with her brother and his domestic partner, Marko. She hugged Marko when she found him in the kitchen, and was grateful to see that he was doing the cooking this evening. She was too nervous to eat much, but she would still rather nibble on Marko's cooking than Daf's, any day. She sat on a barstool to watch for a few minutes, as they all chatted a bit about the past few days' worth of gossip. _It's so good to see how happy they are_, she thought, watching as the taller, and much fairer Marko automatically reached over her brother for the 'good' glasses on the top shelf, seeing them smile at each other without a word being exchanged. _Sometimes, nice guys come in first…for a little while_. Her smile slipped for a second, but then Daf handed her a glass of wine, and she raised it to him in a salute.

Marko spent part of dinner quizzing her about 'the new man in her life', as he called Auron. He had made a rule after he and Dafydd had moved in together that they were not permitted to discuss their music at the table, after one memorable meal where he had not heard a single other topic discussed for three solid hours. So, every other subject was fair game. But neither Mercy nor Dafydd did this particular meal, or the dinnertime conversation, justice. They were both too eager to begin the much anticipated but potentially nerve-wracking process of deciding what they should sing for two complete sets on the following night.

Much earlier than usual, Mercy and Dafydd made a strategic withdrawal to his music room, where he kept several guitars, a couple of keyboards, and two of the instrumentation machines, the one they used in performances plus a spare for emergences. Daf sat with his favorite guitar in his lap, while Mercy perched behind one of the keyboards, as they started trying to figure out how they were actually going to do this thing.

"Sis, can you start off with 'Anticipation'? It seems to work."  
"Sure, if we can end with 'Seven Wonders'?"  
"I knew you were going to say that, sis."  
Mercy's brain started to hurt, as the silence dragged out after that. _I've got no idea where we go from that._ _Now what? Now what? Now what? NOW WHAT?_

She finally broke the silence. "Look, let's just pick which songs we're going to do, and worry about the order later. If we don't start deciding something soon, we're going to be here all night."  
"So what? You got a hot date?"  
"No, I gave up my hot date to be here with you, Hon, so let's get this show on the road."  
"Okay, okay. Look, we haven't done, 'Don't Stop (Thinkin' About Tomorrow)' in a long time. Why don't we do that one again?"  
Her mind went into a tailspin. _No. Lords and Ladies, no. A happy song saying to think about tomorrow, because it will be here soon. Tomorrow will be here all too soon, and I don't want to think about it, because it won't be happy at all. No. Just no_. "Daf, I don't want to do that one right now." _Or ever_, she thought.  
"But why not?"  
"It's just too soon for me to start pushing in that direction," she said tentatively.  
"Oh, you mean Auron. You're worried about what he'll think. That he might think you're pushing him or something? I really don't think he'd take it that way."  
"I'd just rather not do that song, okay?"  
"If you say, so, sis, but I still think it's a good, upbeat number."

_Daf, honey, I hate to do this to you, but I've got to get you off this one_. "Well, if you want upbeat and catchy, we could do 'Hurt so Good'."  
"No, Mercy, we will not do that song. You know why. I'm surprised you even bothered to ask."

_Because it's past time for you to let this one go, Daf. It's okay. It's been okay. It was always okay. But I've stopped telling you, because you don't believe me. You've never believed me_. It had all happened the winter that Dafydd was fifteen. It was the last winter that he had been too young to work during the school year, and it had been one of the worst winters that anyone could remember. The heating bills were eating them alive. Even with her job, the money they had saved from the previous summer, and the money she was taking out of the account she normally hoarded for her school tuition, they were barely scraping by. They kept the heat turned way down to save money, and shared a bed at night, burrowing together like animals to keep warm. They had been young, cold, lonely, and very scared. One night, desperate to keep warm, to feel safe, their need to comfort each other had started to become something else. They didn't get very far, no more than a few kisses, but far enough to frighten them both to their senses. They had stopped and both pretended to sleep instead. But Dafydd had always felt that he had hurt her, whether by starting or by stopping neither of them was ever sure. Over the next few days, she had turned inward, and the whole experience had morphed into a song about someone a little older, more experienced, in love, or at least in lust with someone younger. The song had been her first major sale, and the royalties had paid the damn heating bills. As she slipped out of the memory, she remembered what Auron had told her about Zanarkand, and wondered, _if this city really is a damn dream, why couldn't they have dreamed up some better weather?_

Mercy turned her eyes away from the pained expression on Dafydd's face, and glanced around the room. _All these instruments, and we can't manage a single note. This is just so stupid. I've got to try, one more time._ "You know something, Daf?"  
"What?" he answered back, sullenly.  
"Auron's only thirty."  
"You're kidding, right?" He shook his head at the thought. "I mean, his face, with that scar, he sure looks a lot older."  
"I know, but he's really just thirty." She held back a grin. _He's thinking about it, he's thinking about it_.  
Dafydd met her eyes and slowly grinned at her. "Come on, sis. That's practically cradle robbing. Please tell me he wasn't that green," he teased.  
"Not hardly," Mercy answered, laughing now at the memory of ordering Auron to take his boots off that first time. "But he still has a few things to learn."  
"You planning on teaching him?" Daf asked, half joking and half serious.  
"Hell, yes. If he'll let me." Her expression turned serious. "I love him. I already love him so much, it's scary."  
Her brother opened his arms to her, and took her in for a long hug. "I know you do, sis." Daf sniffed. "Okay, we'll do the damn song."

Now that the heavy tension had eased, it was time for the real work of the evening to begin. They had to come up with enough numbers to fill two forty-five minute sets, and then determine the order they should perform them in. In other words, they needed to agree on twenty-four or twenty-five songs, and they had worked out exactly…three, so far, and it had taken them over an hour. _This is so not working_, Mercy thought. _Why did I ever think we could do this? It usually takes us an hour just to hammer out six songs for an open mic!_

By then end of the second hour, it felt like they had discussed everything she had ever written, and nearly every number they have performed in the last ten years. They had had to make more than a few compromises, but it was starting to sound like a lineup they could live with, or at least one they could try. But there was something that kept bothering Mercy, like an itch that she couldn't quite scratch. As they worked out the play list for the first set, she finally got a handle on what was bothering her about it.  
"Daf, honey…" she began sweetly.  
He interrupted, "Don't try to butter me up, sis. What are going to try to talk me into, this time?"  
"Is Marko going to be in the audience tomorrow night?"  
"Are you kidding? Our first paid gig? He knows how important this is to me. He wouldn't miss it for the world. But what does that have to do with your sweet talk?"  
"Forty-five minutes is an awfully long set for me to sing lead, especially two of them, back to back. Don't you want to be a good partner and help me out?"  
"What are you getting at?" Daf asked suspiciously.  
"You should sing lead, just once each set. Just to give me a break. You've got a terrific voice, Daf, and we've got some beautiful material that would be so much better if you did it instead of me. You know it. Please," she coaxed.  
"Merce, you're really pushing it. You know I hate to sing lead." He tried to sound firm, but she could tell he was wavering.  
"Come on, Daf. You could do 'Your Song' in the middle of the first set. You wrote that for Marko. He would love it. And then 'Moondance' in the second set, that minimalist arrangement you do is so fantastic. This is our dream, it's time for you to take your turn in the spotlight."  
He caved. "On one condition." He waited patiently until she nodded in agreement. "You have to do 'Slow Hand' in the second set. I want to see just how embarrassed that 'boyfriend' of yours can get. Deal?"  
"Deal," she answered, as they shook hands on it. In her head, Mercy did a happy dance. _Daf, solo, onstage, YES!_

After more than two hours, they were able to start practicing the music they were going to perform the following night. When he heard the muffled strains of the music, Marko heaved a vast sigh of relief. The silence from the other side of the door had been driving him almost mad. The first hour had only been mildly nerve-wracking, but when it had stretched past a second hour, and continued into a third, he had wondered if the first sounds he would hear be breaking into song, or breaking musical instruments. He couldn't hear much through the door, but Marko knew that once they began practicing, the worst was generally over.

Across town, Auron finished up his last class, took a shower, dressed, and walked quickly from his dojo to Mercy's building, to see if she had returned. The machina at the entryway informed him that, "The resident in question does not answer," when he tried to reach her in her apartment. This was what he had expected to find, but it had been necessary to make the attempt, he reasoned. Then he turned, and gave himself over to the impulse that had been riding him the entire day. He sought out one of the 'wayfinder' machina, and asked for detailed directions to the address Mercy had given him. Twenty minutes later, he was standing across the street from what he hoped was Dafydd's house, trying to decide whether or not to knock on the door. After he noticed the curtains in the houses on either side twitch, he knew he had to knock on the door. It was either that, or get arrested. He knocked.

Marko was surprised to hear the rap on the door, and even more astonished to see the dark stranger in the doorway.  
"Is Mercy here?" Auron asked uncertainly.  
"Come in and listen for yourself," Marko replied.  
Auron stepped inside and for a few minutes, the two men listened companionably. "That's an old, traditional song," Marko finally continued. "I haven't heard that one in years. Pardon me; I'm forgetting my manners. I'm Marko. Dafydd is my partner. You must be Auron."  
"Yes."  
They shook hands, and Marko motioned Auron to take a seat, then he looked at the clock and confided, "They were quiet until about half an hour ago, then the music finally broke out. By then, I was starting to worry."  
"How much longer will this continue? It is already late." Auron asked.  
"You might as well make yourself comfortable. They're going to be a while yet, I'm afraid," Marko replied with sympathy. He felt sorry for this fellow, if he would be responsible for helping Mercy deal with tomorrow morning. It was already going to be a short night, and Marko knew that Mercy was never on her best behavior first thing in the morning.

Auron was pacing the floor by the time the practice session ended, over an hour later. He had not been certain that it was the right thing to do, coming here and waiting for Mercy, but, once he had been welcomed into the house, he knew it was impossible for him to leave. But then the music coming from the room ceased, and his head came up, as he stared at the door, waiting impatiently for it to open. Dafydd emerged first, Mercy behind him, both talking quietly now, working out some final details. Her voice trailed off when she saw Auron standing there, and she blinked rapidly for a second, while he held his breath. Then she smiled so brightly, to Auron it seemed that her smile had lit up the entire room, and he knew for certain that this had been the right thing to do.

…

Mercy and Dafydd came onstage the next night, blinded at first by the glare of the lights, holding hands like a pair of lost children. Then with one, quick squeeze, they let each other go, and he began the opening bars for 'Anticipation', as they had hammered out the evening before, and they started the show. Her eyes adjusted as she sang, so she was able to spot Auron in the audience, sitting next to Marko. Some of the butterflies in her stomach finally settled down a little bit. As they ran through the early numbers she looked over the 'house', and saw that it was about two thirds full. _This isn't so bad_, she decided. _Enough that they'll invite us back next week if we do okay, but not too many witnesses if we bomb_.  
After 'Anticipation', the next three songs were easy numbers. Fun and upbeat, but not much of a stretch for her voice. For the fifth, as they had planned, she heard the familiar notes drift from the machina, and she closed her eyes briefly, and saw the moment at the coffeehouse, when she had conjured up a dark stranger with this same song, and sang, "Desperado, why don't you come to your senses…"  
When the song ended, she blew her dark stranger a kiss from the stage. Auron smiled back at her in return. Then she gestured to Dafydd, who stood up and pulled his guitar from around his neck, and Daf stepped into the spotlight, as Mercy stepped out of it and seated herself at a keyboard. The two shared a look, both of affection and encouragement, then he nodded, and she began to play, and the backup music started. For the first time, Dafydd sang lead. He focused on his lover's face, as his voice filled the room:

It's a little bit funny this feeling inside  
I'm not one of those who can easily hide  
I don't have much money but boy if I did  
I'd buy a big house where we both could live

Mercy looked up at her brother, and couldn't help thinking; _I remember how long it took you to write that song. You actually bought the house together, but the verse wouldn't scan that way. You sound so good, Daf. Why didn't I get you to do this sooner? Because I always thought I had plenty of time to convince you. Now I know better_. Her smile faltered.

Auron studied Mercy's face, and saw written there the truth of what she had told him at the top of that tower, it was the music itself that she loved, not the limelight. She was clearly just as happy seeing her brother in the spotlight, as she had been to occupy it herself. _Possibly even more so_, Auron thought. He remembered her saying something about her brother wanting someone to 'hide behind'. It was obviously not necessary, as the man had an excellent singing voice, and the audience was definitely enjoying his performance. _But Mercy had decided to press Dafydd into this. Why? _Auron saw her smile slip, noted the momentary sadness in her eyes. _It is because she knows now just how fleeting this is. I am sorry, my lady_. He found himself calling to that voice he had heard, or maybe even praying, "Please let her reach the Farplane, please," but the voice did not answer.

…

Tidus had begged and pleaded to hear Mercy sing. Eventually Auron gave in, as it was the only he way he could see to get the boy to give him any peace. But the night he took the boy to see the performance, sitting across the table from him, Auron realized that it was almost like observing himself in some strange, time-distorted mirror. When Mercy appeared onstage, and started to sing, Auron watched in utter astonishment as the boy fell head over heels in love with her, just as he himself had done. _I wonder if this is the first time he has ever felt anything like this. I wonder even more how he is going to handle it._  
Through the rest of the performance he tried to keep tabs on the boy's face without appearing to take too much notice of him, a difficult task with only one good eye, but he managed. Auron saw Tidus follow the emotions in each song that Mercy sang, saw the boy wince as she sang a love song that was obviously directed at him. But with each passing minute, Tidus had better control of his facial expression, whatever his emotions might be. By the end of the first set, the kid had taken this impossible feeling and folded it up as tight as he could and hidden it away inside, clearly hoping that no one would ever notice it was there. _You'll do, boy_, Auron thought to himself. _You'll do_.

…Spira…Bevelle

Glancing down at the boy, _no, the young man_, Auron corrected himself, sitting at his feet; he reflected that it still painfully resembled seeing himself in the mirror. _When Tidus broke into the fayth's chamber under the palace…his face when he first saw Yuna…saw that she was unharmed in spite of everything…so much love, so much pain...I believe I saw a man in that chamber, not a boy…but I could not bear to watch any longer. I know too well what he feels. But they are only seventeen…is it even possible that it is the same? If I had been able to make my way to Zanarkand at seventeen, and met Mercy, what would have happened? _Auron suppressed a dry chuckle. _Mercy would have been twenty-seven. She would have thought me a callow youth, and probably laughed in my face, if I had been lucky. Kicked my face in and knocked me on my ass for good measure, if I had been arrogant. At seventeen, I probably would have been. Fayth knows, I still was when I met Braska. But if I had heard her sing then, I would have fallen in love with her. As I still am. And I would have fallen just as hard, and just as fast, as I did at thirty. Maybe it is the same, after all. But is there a way to help them and still do what I came here to do? Perhaps, if Mercy were here, she would have a better answer than I._

Then Tidus stood and began to shake the bars of their cell again, impatiently yelling for the guards to let him out. _No, he has not completely grown up, not yet. But Mercy would still be proud of him_.

End Chapter Fourteen


	15. Do the Walls Come Down

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The chapter title is from the song by Carly Simon, "Do the Walls Come Down", the lyrics are, "Do the walls come down when you think of me, do your eyes grow dim, do the walls come down when you think of me, do you let me in?"

_

* * *

They expect us to die in this place, Auron decided. Seymour, Mika…and Kinoc. But I am not certain that Kelk Ronso participated in this. I did not see him among the Maesters when Tidus and I were separated. Kelk was willing to let Mika remain Grand Maester, in spite of the teachings, even after his death, but that was a relatively minor matter. Keeping a known, wise leader in his place versus…who, I wonder? When did Mika actually die, and who would have been the candidates for Grand Maester at that time? He shook his head, dismissing the thought. But that is of no matter, now. Kelk would never condone murder in cold blood, especially not parricide. The Ronso people respect their elders too much for that to have gone down well with him. And Seymour's arrogant tone and flippant dismissal of the matter would certainly have rubbed the old Ronso's fur the wrong way. _

_Kinoc…what happened to you? Is the man I once knew buried under all that flesh? When did the Maester consume both the warrior and the monk? Is that how you got to be so…fat? When I was disgraced, you took the place that was meant for me. Are you what I would have become, if I had stayed and married the priest's daughter?_ He made a disgusted sound._ I think I prefer being unsent._

He leaned his head against the wall, and stood up straight with a jerk, cursing and rubbing the chocobo-egg sized lump with his hand. _How could I have forgotten about that? Kinoc dragged the boy and I out of the cell at gunpoint, and went to stand with Mika and Seymour as we were marched off in separate directions. Someone hit me in the back of the head with a weapon butt, and I woke up here. The Via Purifico, the place where condemned traitors are sent to die. Also, the place that first-year trainee warrior-monks were threatened with being sent to, on an almost daily basis, by the older trainees. I had nightmares about this place my entire first year in Bevelle. I wish I had known then what it was really like; it is not half as bad as my nightmares made it out to be._ The corner of his mouth turned up slightly. _But that was…nearly twenty years ago. Fayth, I was just a boy_.

Auron paced off the 'square' of the intersection where he had found himself when he regained consciousness. "I must remain here", he muttered to himself for what seemed like the thousandth time. _The Via Purifico is too much of a maze for all of us to be wandering around, and this location is too ideally suited for me to give it up, just because I am too impatient to wait for the others to find me_. Just then, he was attacked by one of the resident fiends, a ghost. He raised his weapon, managed to get in one good slice at his foe, but then the creature inflicted a doom spell, and the effect settled upon him like a thick, numbing, cloak of despair. Fighting alone, he was reminded of how terribly slow his attacks were, how long it took him to ready himself to strike the fiend again, how uncertain he was as to whether or not he could destroy the thing before his time ran out, and how desperately he missed Mercy every single, damn day. He dispatched the ghost with the third cut from his blade, and the blanket of depression disappeared with its pyreflies. Except for that last, lingering thought. He slid down against the nearest wall. _I still do miss her, desperately. Every…damn…day._

…Zanarkand…five years ago

They were standing outside the club where Mercy had just finished performing, the fingers of her left hand entwined in his right. Auron scanned the passers by on the street, and waited for the tug on his hand that would mean she had decided which route home they would take that night. It was a game they played, after each performance, they took turns choosing the route home, exploring the city, finding new restaurants, other interesting places to come back to on another day. But he was more fascinated by their destination, by all that was embodied in that simple word…home. _It truly is my home now, _he mused._ I have been bringing my things to her apartment almost from the beginning. But three sennights ago, she must have either bowed to the inevitable, or finally admitted that I seriously intend to stay with her, because she gave me a set of keys and arranged with the building security for me to have my own…entry code. It was her idea to ask Tidus to help us move the rest of my belongings the following Sennight's End_. He smiled ruefully. _The boy acted as though we were torturing him, expecting him to work on his day off from school, complaining because we were cutting into 'his time'. He shut his mouth quickly enough when Mercy sweetly reminded him that we could have left him at his aunt and uncle's for the afternoon_.

At random, she picked a street heading in approximately the right direction, and squeezed his hand. "Hey there, you paying attention to me?"  
"Always, my lady," he replied, smiling down at her warmly. They began strolling down the street she had indicated.  
Their game of alternately choosing the way home each night had caused them to learn something about each other's personalities, that they might not have found out in any other way. He preferred to plan ahead, so he always mapped out their route before they even arrived wherever Mercy happened to be playing that night. This had the unintentional side effect of making the 'wayfinder' machina the only machines that Auron had learned to use easily. But Mercy waited until she was standing outside and ready to go home, and chose the way depending on how she felt at that moment, so, if she wanted to get home quickly, she opted for a route she knew well, and if she felt adventurous, although Auron would have called it reckless, she would pick a street at random, trusting her knowledge of the city to lead them home…eventually.  
This night seemed to be one of the 'adventure' nights. Just as he was thinking she was going to have to admit that they were lost, they turned onto a familiar street. "Whew!" she admitted. "I had no idea we were anywhere near here." They had arrived where they had begun. The coffeehouse where they had met was just down the block, and music was pouring out of it, just as it had been two months previously. They continued walking toward the music, but when they stood outside the place, Auron stopped, turning his head to look around.  
"It is the same," he said, clasping her hand more tightly for a moment. "But I am not. That night, I was so angry with Jecht, for extracting that promise from me. I blamed him for my presence here. I blamed myself. I was drinking, which probably did not help my…disposition. But I..." his voice trailed off.  
_I wanted the time to pass faster, so that I could return to Spira sooner. Fayth, I truly am…a fool_, he thought. _I received exactly what I wished for. Now, when I would give anything to hold onto each moment, time just seems to slip through my fingers_.  
"But you…what, Auron?" she broke into his thoughts.  
He looked down into her eyes, trying to let only his love for her show on his face, and not the darkness his thoughts had just invoked. His lips curved up in a slight smile. "But I distinctly remember cursing myself for a fool for even being here, that particular night." _And I was, but not in the way I thought at the time,_ he now realized.  
He was astonished when she started to laugh quietly at his words. She continued laughing at the growing consternation on his face, bowing her head and resting her forehead against his chest as she tried to regain her composure.  
He touched his finger under her chin, and tilted her face up to meet his. "Would you like to tell me what you found so amusing in what I just said?" He sounded slightly vexed at her, that she seemed to be so entertained at his expense.  
Mercy swallowed the last of her laughter. "Love, didn't you know? We are all fools. It's part of the human condition." _Damn you, Auron, you can be so exasperating_. She sighed. _I hope your Braska had one hell of a sense of humor, because he sure must have needed it between you and Jecht._ "You can be so damn arrogant sometimes. Or maybe it's just pride, I don't know." _Whatever those warrior monks taught you, it certainly wasn't humility_. "You may be unsent, but you're still only human. Maybe if you'd figured that out a little sooner, we would have met earlier."

Auron's thoughts spun out of control, and he was quieter than usual the rest of the way home, trying to make some sense of the fragments skittering through his mind. _The voice I heard that night, it addressed me as 'Guardian'. But what had it said?_ _Something like, "We have been waiting a long time for you to say those words." I know it said 'we have been waiting', not 'I have been waiting'. There was no one close enough to me that night to whisper in my ear. I was drinking; I know I was not drunk. Whose voice? Who in Zanarkand knows that I was a Guardian? More important, who in Zanarkand even cares?  
_Mercy kept glancing up at his face as they continued their journey home, trying to discern the direction of his thoughts. _He looks as though someone just walked over his grave, which is impossible, since it seems they don't believe in that sort of thing in Spira. I hope he is not worrying that I am sorry he came here, or thinking that I would be better off if I didn't know what the future holds. Foolish man. I would never be sorry that he came here. And I would have traded anything I have or might ever hope to have for just one day or one night together. Doesn't he know that by now?  
_But he was remembering Mercy's words, and matching them to those of the voice. Mercy had called him proud, and arrogant. The voice had said he was stubborn. Mercy had joked that if he had figured things out sooner, if he had 'admitted he was human' more readily, they might have met earlier. The voice had said that it and its associates, whoever they might be, had been waiting a long time for him to say what he had that night, for him to admit that he was a fool. _Fayth, what if Mercy was right? What if my arrogance, my pride, has stood in the way all along? Did I…waste…five years? Then I am an even greater fool than I first thought_.  
Finally, the last piece of the puzzle fell into place. _This Zanarkand is a summoning. The fayth are here. The fayth…  
_A slow smile spread across his face, as he realized what he needed to do. She felt the return of his attention to the 'here and now' and returned his smile with one equally warm and loving.

Later that night, he lay awake, with Mercy sleeping close against his side. Now that he knew that his words, and his feelings, had power, he wanted to be certain that he projected, not just the words, but also the sincerity behind them. This time, he could not speak aloud, so he carefully formed the thought in his mind, as clearly as he could, "I beg you, please, let her reach the Farplane." This time, there was an answer, of sorts. Auron fell into a deep and instant sleep, and found himself in a cavern, bare rock, except for the translucent crystal at his feet, radiating light, encasing two immense, brightly garbed figures. The forms floated up out of the stone to face him, and he found himself facing a masked swordsman and his dog. _Yojimbo_, he thought, _no wonder his voice seemed familiar_.  
"Guardian, you have passed the trial. The test of humility. What boon would you beg of Yojimbo", asked the fayth.  
_I only have one thing left to pray for_, Auron knew with absolute certainty. "I beg you, let Mercy reach the Farplane"  
"Guardian, your Lady will reach the Farplane, if everyone plays their parts", and with that cryptic answer, the dream ended, and the fayth was gone.

….Spira…Via Purifico

_What a fool I was. If only I had admitted it the day I arrived in Zanarkand, we could have had the entire ten years. But…maybe not. I do not think I would have known what to do, if we had met that first year. And it would not make any difference now, except perhaps to make me feel even worse. Instead of only five years of memories, I might have six years now, or eight_. He struck his head against the wall, ignoring the pain. _But this will not send her to the Farplane; it is already too late. What…went…wrong?_

Suddenly, he heard voices from around the bend. Yuna's voice, chattering to…Kimahri. The Ronso's bass rumble was barely audible. Auron dropped his head on his folded arms for a moment, letting the relief wash over him. _Yuna is safe, especially if Kimahri is with her. But what of Tidus and the others? As soon as Yuna gets here, we will have to search. But now I must stand up and put on my 'legendary guardian' mask, and prepare to greet my summoner_.

End Chapter Fifteen


	16. These Dreams

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The title of this chapter is from a song originally performed by Heart.

* * *

Auron had not known, but Mercy also had a dream that night. A woman appeared before her, clothed in blue robes either trimmed or lined with fur. The woman appeared to be in her mid-thirties, but it was difficult for Mercy to judge, as only the woman's face was visible. "Who are you?" Mercy asked.  
"I am called Shiva," the woman stated. "You were right. If he had learned the lesson more easily, you would have met sooner." A sudden chill swept over Mercy, and she shivered.  
"You are…one of the fayth?" Mercy inquired uncertainly.  
"Yes," Shiva replied.  
"I've seen you before, haven't I? I remember now. A flash of blue, out of the corner of my eye, the day I chose my apartment five years ago.  
"That is correct."  
"And again. When I moved in. There were places, spaces…you…encouraged is even too strong a word…suggested, perhaps…no, hinted…not even that…sort of a strong feeling, maybe…that it would be better for me to leave them empty…waiting."  
"We hoped, but we were not certain," Shiva responded.  
"You have let me find things, in the Archives, haven't you? Documents I've read once and never been able to find again. The map that Auron used to show me Spira…"  
The fayth pursed her lips in a wry expression. "We wanted to prepare you. But we did not know that the wait would be so long, that he would prove so…obstinate." Shiva laughed, but the sound echoed like tinkling icicles.  
Mercy cried out, "Lady, why have you done all this? And why have you revealed yourself to me now, and not before, or later? What happens now?" The last question was almost a wail.

"Child, I may not answer your first question, for it is not yet time. As for the second, the answer is within your reach. Your third question I may answer. What will come to pass from this point forward is based on your thoughts, your wishes, your actions."  
"Mine?" Mercy sounded doubtful. "You are not manipulating events?"  
"Hardly. We only…present choices, if it is possible, if the conditions have been met. We cannot and we must not force your choices upon you."  
"Then you…open doors," Mercy breathed, in sudden understanding.  
"Yes," Shiva replied, looking pleased, "but only you can walk through them."  
"So, what happens now is what we make happen?" Mercy was still searching for confirmation.  
"Yes." The fayth nodded.  
"Until Sin comes." Mercy couldn't lose sight of the end of this journey. The next five years would be whatever they might make of them, and then, Auron would be gone.  
"Even so," Shiva said quietly in answer.  
Mercy spoke quietly now, almost to herself. "I've never had a relationship last two years, let alone five. It's ironic, isn't it, that this time, five years isn't going to be enough? But it wouldn't have mattered if we had met the day he arrived…and I don't believe either of us would have been ready for it then, anyway. And I don't think ten years would have been enough, either. This time, a lifetime wouldn't be enough."  
Shiva gazed at Mercy unblinkingly for several seconds, studying her. "You see…truly. That is the first trial. We will meet again." Shiva snapped her fingers, and Mercy fell into a dreamless sleep for what remained of the night.

…

_If the time we have is what we make of it, then what the hell am I doing in this stupid meeting?_ The thought crashed through Mercy's head Firstday afternoon, as the speaker droned on. _This is meaningless, now. Admit it, it was always meaningless, it's just that now I'm aware of how totally absurd this all is. This is crazy; I shouldn't be wasting time on this nonsense. I have to get out of here and think!_ She excused herself hurriedly, pleading a headache, and escaped from the room. She knew she had left a room full of gossiping 'old biddies' behind her, all wondering if her sudden 'headache' had anything to do with her recently fascinating personal life, and she knew that she didn't care. She suppressed a smirk as she walked towards her office. _Those old biddies aren't that old, and most of the gossip is pure envy. I've heard some of the giggling and tittering about my relationship with Auron, or, just the speculation about Auron. I think most of the women…and a few of the men…really want to know if there any more like him around_.

She reached the sanctuary of her office, entered, and closed the door firmly behind her, hearing a satisfying click as the lock snicked into place. _Alone at last_, she sighed, as she relaxed in the comfortable chair behind her desk. She sat back and recalled the dream from two nights previously, the one that had been simmering in the back of her mind all of Sennight's End. _Why didn't it bother me until now, _she wondered_. For two days, I've had it in the back of my mind, but it didn't really jump out at me. And then today…POW!_ She massaged her temples. The headache hadn't been a complete fabrication. Mercy tried to remember everything that she had done over the past couple of days, and she smiled to herself as the happy memories drifted through her mind. _There is nothing that I did over the 'End that I wouldn't have done, nothing that happened that I would change, _she decided_, except possibly finding a way to stop Tidus' mouth a little more often_, she thought sarcastically, but still fondly. _I spent time with the people I love; doing the things that feed my soul. I didn't waste a second_.

_But this_, her eyes scanned the papers on the top of her desk, the insistent 'message waiting' light blinking on her 'link, and the screen on her office comp, _why am I still doing this? In five years, it will all be in ruins. I may be dead. I certainly won't give a damn, one way or another. Why continue to play the office politics game?_ She stood and walked to the window, and then she searched the city skyline, as though she were trying to find an answer among the tall buildings. _What would I do instead? I'm just not the type to sit around and be a 'lady of leisure' for the next five years. I'd go nuts. Besides, I don't think I have enough money saved up for that. I could quit here and help Auron teach._ She tapped her fingers together and thought about that seriously for a few seconds, then she started to laugh softly to herself. _Oh, no._ _I can just see us living out of each other's pockets like that. Two really intense, passionate, temperamental, opinionated, strong-willed people…armed both with smart mouths and sharp, pointed objects. We'd have twice as many chances to hurt each other as the average couple. No, thank you_. She shook her head and moved back to her desk. _But what does it all mean?_ _It means…I stay here, but with a difference. This isn't a career anymore, because I'm sure not ambitious anymore. This is just a job, now. I want to stay in this position, because there are very few people who can 'look over my shoulder'. I like the freedom that gives me, so it's worth keeping. So, I need to do what's necessary to maintain my current position. No more late night meetings, unless they're absolutely required. No more special projects. No need to volunteer for extra assignments, just to make myself 'look good'. And I need to get myself out of that damn Fourthnight rotation. I'll just come in late after our mid-Sennight gigs and take vacation time for the time off. The hell with it, I've got plenty of leave time to burn. My world is coming to an end in five years…anything that doesn't matter during the next five years, or won't matter after five years, or that isn't a joy for its own sake, just isn't worth doing. _

Mercy's normal Firstday routine was to leave the office in time to bring some kind of takeout food to the dojo for Auron's short evening break. He'd learned that he had to at least try whatever she brought, to treat the different cuisines as another kind of adventure. In return, she agreed not to bring a second round of anything he truly couldn't stomach. Tonight, as she usually did, she assisted him with one class, a class of youngsters, then she went off into one corner for her own, more intense workout while he finished the last class of the evening. As they closed up the place for the night, she shared her afternoon's thoughts with him, now that she had had one last chance, and one last class of working with him, to confirm her earlier decisions.  
He let her talk herself out, wind down really, as they walked home, while he tried to comprehend what she was telling him. He really only cared that she was happy with her decision, but he just didn't see the sense in this…compromise of hers. "If you no longer see the purpose in working there, why continue? We could work together. For some of the classes, you are a far better teacher than I. You have more patience," he said, acknowledging his own shortcomings ruefully.  
"Actually, I don't have any more patience than you do. I just hide it better. But that's not the point." She sighed heavily. "We're just too competitive, love. We're both too used to being the one in charge. Whenever one of the little ones turns to me instead of you, you grind your teeth and clench your jaw, because you can't stand it that they look to me first. If we taught a class of teenagers, it would be the other way around, and it would drive me just as crazy. If we tried to work together, we'd probably kill each other inside of a month." She shook her head. "It's probably a good thing we can't have children." Mercy looked down at her feet, startled by the sudden pain she felt at the harsh reality of those few words. Then she lifted her face, stared straight ahead, almost unblinking, and continued, "Because they would be twice as stubborn and competitive as we are, and probably born fully armed into the bargain."  
"You are probably right," he answered, his mind dwelling on her last surprising statement. _She is correct…of course. We cannot have children. It is not even possible for me to father a child. I am not truly alive, not any longer. When it was possible, there was no woman I cared for enough to even begin to think…and now, even if it were possible, it would be…irresponsible. But I can picture them so clearly, playing on a beach, a boy and a girl, both dark… they would have to be… laughing and happy, flailing at each other with stubby little arms… and it hurts…so much… to know that they will never be_.

They were silent the rest of the way, but when they reached the privacy of their own home, he saw the track of a tear that had run down her cheek. He folded her in his arms, gently, as though she were as fragile as spun glass, and held her that way for a long time. When she looked up at him again, her face was dry, although her eyes were still suspiciously bright. She reached up to touch his face with her fingers. "I love you, Auron," she said quietly, then she leaned over, and rested her forehead against his chest.  
"My lady, I love you, too," he replied, pressing a soft kiss into her hair.

…

Mercy's decision had been an easy one to make, but it took nearly two months for her to extricate herself from her various over-commitments at the Archives. There was no shortage of people willing, and even eager to take her place on the various committees and task forces that she determined she no longer needed to waste precious time over. The hardest one to get off of her calendar was the Fourthnight public desk rotation, because the schedule was set several sennights in advance. But she had finally done it.

She actually felt almost guilty this first time, coming in at one in the afternoon, knowing she was leaving at five, taking a half day's leave time, or, at least she did until she opened up her appointments calendar. "What the hell is going on?" she cursed to herself. "This is so not what it looked like when I left yesterday." Her screen was blinking back at her, with this afternoon's half past one block filled in with red block capitals, "Emergency appointment with Archives Director. Please Acknowledge." As she stabbed the 'Acknowledge' button she asked herself, "Who the hell does he think he is anyway? Hauling me in for an 'emergency meeting' with one hour's notice," she continued muttering under her breath. "Lord Halle thinks he's the Director of the Archives, dummy. Your boss, remember? Calm down and think."  
Mercy finally got control of her temper, and shut her mouth. That didn't keep the little hamsters from scurrying around in her brain, it just kept any of them from escaping into the open air, where someone might overhear them squeaking. _What does 'Old Woodenface' want, I wonder? This can't be good news. If it was good news, he'd have his secretary call and ask when would be a convenient time for me to come up. Instead, he told Bette to make me available this afternoon. This must mean trouble_. Mercy tried to recall the last few days of activity, then the last few weeks. _I just don't get it. There hasn't been anything. This makes no sense_.  
Mercy checked with his Lordship's secretary, but Bette had no idea what the appointment was about either, so, at half past one precisely she presented herself at his Lordship's office. Lord Halle made her wait fifteen minutes before he deigned to see her. _This is just not a good sign_, Mercy decided.

_Why do I always think, big office, small…man, whenever I come in here_, Mercy thought, as she walked through the pretentious office to reach the Director's desk. _It's such a beautiful office, all this wood and glass, and he has such a fantastic view from up here. But does anybody ever read the books in these bookcases? Do they even open, or are they just for show?_  
The office resembled its occupant. Lord Halle was a man in his mid-fifties, tall and distinguished looking, impressive at first glance, but after being in his company for a few minutes, most people realized that there was not much substance behind his polished veneer.  
"Mercianne, correct?" he said, as he gestured her towards a seat.  
"Yes, sir." _I hope he's going to get straight to the point. The suspense is killing me. _  
"I see from your records that you have been with us for some time, now."  
"Yes, milord." _I see that your secretary pulled my personnel file. And you can read, how clever of you._  
"You've done some excellent work."  
"Thank you, sir." _No wonder they call you 'Old Woodenface', you only seem to have one expression, and it's, well, pretty damn stiff_.  
"I'm disappointed to see such a fine record besmirched by such sordid extra-curricular activities."  
_Seriously, does anyone actually still use words like 'besmirched'?_ Aloud, "Pardon me, sir, but precisely what are activities are you referring to?" _What the hell are you talking about? Buster, if you even think you want to talk about my personal life, you've got another think coming._  
"This sphere recording." At which point, he pressed a few buttons, and a sphere player opened on his desk and began to play back a slightly grainy recording that Mercy instantly recognized. _Oh bloody hell. The encore, that night at the open mic when everything happened. _She tried to keep her expression neutral, as she watched herself seduce Auron in front of a packed audience. _I really, really want a copy of this recording, since whoever did this made damn sure they caught Auron's face and body language. Lords and Ladies, the way he's sprawled in that chair…he must have been extremely… uncomfortable_. Mercy suppressed a grin. _Of course this recording is illegal, totally bootleg, but that's Daf's and my problem, and our lawyer's, not Old Woodenface's or the Archives', so what is he going on about, anyway?_ Lord Halle was playing the entire recording through, which seemed unnecessary, so she looked across the desk to see if he was waiting for some signal from her. The avid expression on his face as he watched the sphere made her feel a little sick. _I don't know what part of this he is getting off on, and I really don't want to know_, Mercy decided with disgust.

As soon as the playback was complete, Lord Halle turned to her. "You must understand, this kind of performance is not in keeping with the image that the Archives wishes to convey to the public. You cannot continue this sort of public display," he said, projecting extreme distaste as he gestured at the sphere player, "if you wish to maintain your position here at the Archives."

Mercy was completely floored. _He must be out of his tiny mind_, she thought. "Let me be sure I understand you. Are you telling me that you are requiring me to either give up my performing contracts or resign my position in the Archives?"  
He was pleased that she saw things so clearly. "Yes, I am."  
"On what grounds, sir? Please show me where it is stated in the personnel regulations that this is not permissible. I have been very careful over the years to always keep the Personnel Department fully informed of all my performing and songwriting contracts to ensure that no such questions would ever arise." Mercy was seething with bottled rage. _This can't be happening, not now_.  
"The performance on this recording is simply not in keeping with the dignity of this institution. You must either cease such displays, or resign, or I will have you fired!" His voice was rising now, in fury.  
Mercy's voice went cold with suppressed anger. "I do not believe that you have the right to force any such action. I will certainly be seeking legal counsel in this matter." She stalked out of his office before she exploded. It seemed like the wisest course of action. _Definitely a much better idea than tearing his head off and sticking it on a pike_, she fumed, _and he's sure not worth spending the next few years in jail for. But it's such a pretty picture_.

As soon as she reached her own office, Mercy shut the door and automatically started to pick up her communications 'link, but then realized that it would be a bad idea. _Maybe I'm being overly paranoid, but it's way too easy to monitor internal communications. Right now, that stupid bastard is probably itching for a reason to fire me. But he just looked like he was just itchy, period, watching that recording_.

She began pacing her office, trying to burn off some of her excess energy. _Damn, I wish I could reach Auron, but he doesn't have a 'link. I just want to talk to him, just for a minute. Damn the man. He hates to use any machine he doesn't absolutely have to, except the wayfinders. I think he's practically in love with those. But I really need to talk with him, right now. I think, that for him, personal 'links just moved into the category of 'absolutely have to have', and I'll do whatever I have to tonight to make sure he sees things my way. Damn him. I can't reach him and it's all his fault and I need him_.

She flung herself into her chair. _Let's see, who else do I need to call? Daf was pretty much in the background on the sphere, but he still needs to know. I hate calling him at school, since I never know whether he's in a counseling session with a student or not. I'll wait 'til after four, he should be home by then. Lords and Ladies, Tidus. Auron is going to have to call Tidus tonight. Poor kid, he gets enough grief about being Jecht's boy. Sooner or later, some smartass punk is going to show him that sphere, just to see what kind of reaction they get. We need to warn him before that happens. What a mess._

Slightly calmer now, she pulled out her personal 'link and placed a call to her lawyer. The brief consultation confirmed what Mercy had suspected from the outset; that Lord Halle did not have any legal grounds for requiring her resignation or for dismissing her. That would not actually prevent him from firing her, and then leaving it to her to bring a suit of wrongful dismissal against him and the Archives in the civil courts. If that occurred, it would be nasty, messy, and expensive for all parties, but most especially for Mercy, since both the Archives and Lord Halle and his noble family had considerably deeper pockets than she did personally. But once she heard the likeliest grounds for eventual dismissal, Mercy knew what she would have to do. _This is a very, very big mess_, she realized, amending her earlier thought.

Now that she had decided, she had to explain it to Auron. "I do not understand. Why are you fighting this?" he asked in bewilderment that evening when she had finished her explanation.  
She spoke quickly, urgently, trying to sway him with her conviction, if logic wouldn't do the job. "It's not the money, if that's what you're asking. I still don't think it would be the best idea for us to work together for the next five years, but I imagine we could find some way of not killing each other, if we had to. But, from what the lawyer told me, I can't quit now, because no one knows how the rules will be changed if I do. And anyway, I'm not a quitter, Auron. You know me better than that. If he really tries to fire me, the most likely legal grounds will be that I have a second job, any kind of second job. There are a lot of people at the Archives who moonlight. Most of them need those second jobs to pay the rent or put food on the table, for them they pay for the necessities, not luxuries. And they can't afford to fight. If I give in to him, those folks will have a really rough road for a while, maybe a long while, and they don't know how long it will be. I can afford this fight, and they can't, so, I'm fighting for them. Auron, now do you see?"  
"Yes, I see." He saw that this was part of why he loved her so much. She would fight to protect others, even if she got hurt in the process.  
While he was being agreeable, she decided to press on. "Will you please get a damn 'link?"  
"Why?" he asked in resignation.  
"Because I almost went crazy this afternoon. I needed you and I couldn't reach you." Now, finally, she let go and started to cry. After everything that had happened in this long, strange day, she let the reaction sweep over her. He pulled her into his arms and cradled her close. "Okay, I'll get a 'link." As he stroked her back, he wondered, _why does she always have to go all the way to the damn wall before she admits she cannot do everything alone? Not that I am any different_, he thought ruefully.

As soon as she calmed down, she got Auron to call Tidus. He told the boy to go into his room and close the door. As soon as Tidus was alone, Mercy got on the 'link, and explained that there was a bootleg recording of one of her concerts floating around and that she might be in trouble for it. "But why are you in trouble?" the boy asked in confusion.  
"I'm not completely sure. I think my boss is a complete nutcase, mostly. But someone you know will eventually play it for you, I'm sure. I don't have a copy, or I would just give you one. The performance was, well," she blushed, "suggestive, I guess, but the trouble isn't about the recording, it's about the fact that I might get fired, and if I do, it will probably be rather messy. I just wanted you to know in advance, that's all. To warn you, I guess."  
"Why warn me?" the boy asked.  
"I didn't want you to be blindsided. That's what friends are for. I'll explain the rest of it on when we see you, but I just didn't want you to be surprised. Okay?"  
_Friends, huh_? Tidus thought, but what he said was, "Okay."

…

The crowd at both the clubs they played in that weekend had clearly heard or seen something, if not the actual recording, then at least the gossip. In the entertainment business, there was almost no such thing as bad publicity, so Mercy and Dafydd were happy to capitalize on whatever interest was generated. Daf hadn't been worried about the sphere for himself, just for her. He had been very much in the background fuzz on the recording. He could only hope the whole mess didn't cause her too much trouble at her regular job.

Tidus had seen the recording before he saw Auron and Mercy over the Sennight's End. He had found the whole performance disturbing on a number of levels, but he tried very hard not to show it. Without the warning, it would have been impossible. The kid who showed him the recording was not a friend, and had been looking for him to react badly. Just because he had a crush on Mercy, didn't mean he wanted anyone to know about it, ever.

…

A sennight passed in something like normalcy. A few people at work avoided her at first, fearing that whatever trouble she was in might be contagious, but as the days passed, and nothing happened, most people's behavior returned to normal. Mercy learned from Bette that a nearly endless parade of lawyers passed through Lord Halle's office, but that 'Old Woodenface' had not seemed pleased with the advice they gave him.

The following Sixthnight's concert was attended by an atypical group of 'guests'. At the table next to the one that Auron habitually occupied, a 'Reserved' sign was placed on the table before the club opened. Five minutes before Mercy's first set, a lady in her late seventies with a female attendant, and two of what could only be called bodyguards, were escorted to the 'Reserved' table with a great deal of fuss on the part of the manager. During the performance, Auron was rather disconcerted to find that he was as much under observation as Mercy and Dafydd. By the middle of the first set, he lost his willingness to tolerate the itch of being under almost constant scrutiny, and he turned to face the older woman, staring directly into her bright green eyes over the rim of his dark glasses. She continued to assess him coolly, while he struggled to outwardly maintain his composure, as he inwardly reeled with the shock of recognition. _If Jenni had lived_, he decided, _or her mother perhaps, she would have looked much like this woman someday. But I knew many priests, and I saw portraits of several maesters, who did not have this woman's level of mastery and presence. I wonder how Kinoc is doing with my men these days? Enough of this. _He changed position, crossing his legs so that his left knee was bent, and his right hand rested on his left ankle. A difficult position to rise from, but an easy one from which to reach the knife he kept sheathed in his left boot. The lady's bodyguards noticed as well, they became instantly more alert, he could tell from their stiffened posture. He drummed his fingers against his boot, staring the woman down, he hoped. _Madame, I am not part of the performance_. His glance flicked up to the stage. _Turn your gaze to those who are_. The woman inclined her head, regally. He flicked his eye up again, at her bodyguards. _And call off your…dogs_, he thought with finality, _before I bite one_. His attention fixed again on the woman. She studied his face thoroughly, and the corner of her mouth twitched slightly, then she turned and gestured to her 'attendants' to stand down, as she refocused her gaze upon the stage. Auron allowed himself an invisible sigh of relief. During the rest of the evening, he felt her gaze slide over him from time to time, but she never fixed on him again, and for that, he was grateful.

Mercy and Dafydd had also noticed the unusual group in the audience, but it didn't change any of their arrangements. They had already decided which numbers to do, including 'Slow Hand', figuring that as long as the bootleg recording was going around, people would want to see them perform the song in question. And it was a great night. Not only was the house packed, but also, the audience seemed to be eating and drinking up everything in sight. The manager looked like a very happy man. During the set break, while Mercy and Dafydd were in the back, Auron noticed that the lady at the next table had a 'discussion' with her entourage. There seemed to be a change in plans. Clearly, she was supposed to have left at the end of the first set, but she had decided to stay for the second set as well.

On Firstday morning, Mercy was astounded to discover that, instead of being fired herself, the Archives now had a new Director. Instead of Lord Halle, his mother, Lady Belina was now in charge of the Archives. And Lady Belina had requested that Mercy make an appointment to see her at Mercy's earliest convenience.

Mercy decided it would be convenient at ten in the morning, an hour later. When she arrived at Lady Belina's office, she was shown in immediately. Mercy was not totally surprised to discover that Lady Belina was her mystery audience member from Sixthnight, but she was still confused about the sudden change in the management of the Archives. The Lady graciously invited her to sit down. "You look puzzled, my dear," Lady Belina said.

"Yes, milady. Why were you were in the audience Sixthnight?"  
"I wanted to see with what all the fuss was about. But we'll get back to that in a moment. First, I wish to apologize for my son's behavior. Your service to the Archives has been exemplary, and you are correct, there are no grounds to request your resignation or for your dismissal, nor are they desired or requested. And please, do not stop performing, your voice is lovely."  
"Milady, I accept your apology. And, thank you. I'm just, well, surprised."  
"My son is a fool, and several lawyers told him so. When he refused to listen, I asked him to step down as Head of the Archives. I came to see your performance because I wanted to see, and hear, for myself. I couldn't help but notice that you did the same song, but it wasn't the same, not at all. Why was it so different from the sphere recording?"

The question had really been a command, Mercy was well aware. She studied the older woman. Lady Belina was in her late seventies, Mercy knew that for a fact, but she was still straight, and still showed traces of the beauty she had been in her youth. She clearly still ruled her family, as well. But Mercy thought she saw a twinkle in the older woman's eye. She had a feeling that Lady Belina might have a pretty good idea of most of the answer already. Maybe she'd had a few nights like that herself, long ago.  
Mercy began by talking about the performance. "Milady, all live performances are inherently unique. There's a kind of a…symbiosis, if you will, between the audience and the performer. They feed me energy, by watching, by listening, just by being there, for that matter. The happier they are, the more they get into the whole thing, the more energy they give me. And I give it right back to them when I sing. It's a feedback loop, and it can be either positive or negative, good energy or bad energy. That night, it was all good energy, positive feedback, and it just kept building. By the time that sphere started running, we had already done six songs, and everything was working for us that night. Everything had been working for us that whole week. After twenty years, we'd finally caught the lightning," Mercy's voice trailed off, as she realized that she had probably said too much.  
"I'm sorry, my dear, but that last bit didn't make much sense. I understood you completely up until that point. What did you mean by 'caught the lightning'?" Lady Belina asked sympathetically.  
"I'm the one who should be sorry, milady. It's an expression used sometimes in the arts, and probably in other fields as well. It refers to 'catching lightning in a bottle'; another way of saying finding a miracle and holding onto it. I believe that would be the best way of saying it. My brother and I have been performing together for more than twenty years, but when that recording was made, that week, something had changed. What we do is, I don't know, maybe eighty or ninety percent talent, but the rest is something else, partly ambition, partly inspiration, partly luck. Whatever it is, whatever makes up that wall that kept me from reaching that next level, I broke it that week." Mercy looked at the older woman, trying to ascertain if her audience was still following her train of thought. The lady was, as her next question made all too clear.  
"Do you know why you were able to break through to your talent so suddenly after so many years?" Lady Belina probed.  
Mercy smiled in answer. "I certainly do. And so do you, milady. Auron told me you were staring at him during most of the first set the other night."  
"Please convey my apologies to your young man. Also let him know that he made my attendants very nervous," Lady Belina said with a slight chuckle.  
"Milady, if Auron did not make them nervous, I would sincerely recommend that they be replaced. He should have made them extremely 'nervous'." Mercy's tone held both pride, and warning.  
"However, I believe we were discussing your performance, Mercy. I received the impression that there was something special about that particular night. Or perhaps I was mistaken," the lady said in an inquiring tone.  
_How many of the answers do you already know? If half the stories about you are true…all of them, I would wager. But why is this so important to you? This is a test, isn't it? I just need to be honest, straightforward, and not mealy-mouthed. I have a feeling you won't go for that, will you, milady? Besides, after the performance I gave on that sphere, too much prissiness would itself seem like a lie. Start talking, girl. Now_.  
"Oh, yes, it was special. The sphere was recorded at an 'open mic', we performed there for love, not for money. When we came out we saw that there was a booking agent in the audience, a representative of one of the noble houses that owns several clubs where groups like ours are paid to perform. We knew that if we did well that night, there was a very good chance that we would be signed to a performing contract. By the time the recording started, we were pretty certain it was going to happen. It's quite a jolt to have a twenty year old dream come true, milady. My brother and I were pretty much on top of the world." Mercy's face was shining, reliving the moment.

"But that wasn't the essence of what was captured on the sphere that I saw", the lady prompted.  
Mercy took a deep breath, let it out, and continued, "No, it wasn't, but it still fed into it, in a way. I was already pretty high. Milady, Daf and I had dreamed that dream for so long. Neither of us are children anymore. We tried to be realistic about the whole thing, and we both thought that this would never happen, we had convinced ourselves that we were content just to do the open mics. But suddenly, the thing we'd both hoped for since we were kids was right before our eyes, and we were both so excited we were about to burst with it. And then, Auron…" Mercy stopped completely, trying to find a circumspect way to describe their relationship, and knew there really wasn't one. Her face flushed.  
As Mercy tried to gather her words together, Lady Belina prompted, "What about your young man?"  
"I'm afraid that he just wanted to get me off that stage, and get me home. We'd known each other all of eight days by then." Mercy shook her head, a smile on her face as she looked into the older woman's eyes. "And against all reason, all common sense, we'd become lovers the night before, when we'd known each other a whole sennight." Mercy closed her eyes a second, remembering that feeling of incandescence, seeing how it appeared on the recording, and continued in an amused tone, "Unfortunately, Auron isn't very patient, and he doesn't remember song titles very well. Daf and I were so surprised, we just weren't prepared to do another song, and the crowd wasn't helping. Auron could only think of two song titles, and one of them was the song we had just finished before the crowd started shouting for an encore, so he called for the other one. I had sung it to him the night before as a question, and that is why he remembered it. In the mood I was in, I was perfectly willing to tell the entire audience what answer I had received. The result was what you saw on the sphere." Mercy met the older woman's gaze steadily as she finished speaking with, "I may sing that song a thousand more times, but no night will ever be like that one."

Lady Belina said, "Thank you, Mercy, for sharing that with me. For a moment, you reminded me of my own youth." She waited several seconds before she continued, letting them both return to the present. "Before you go, I would ask you, what might I do to make up to you, let us say, for any anxiety that my son may have caused you?"

Mercy took the time to appreciate the irony of the situation. She looked out the windows of the office, and thought of all the times she had wondered what it would be like to be promoted to one of the Executive Administrator positions. Right this minute, she could have one of those positions for the asking, and she no longer wanted one. Or anything else that Lady Belina had within her considerable power to grant. _The only thing we want is more time, and Lady Belina doesn't have that kind of power_. "I thank you for your generous offer, milady, but your apology is all that is necessary."  
"If you are certain…" the lady replied, pleased but astonished by her refusal.  
"I am, milady. Thank you very much for your time." Mercy left Lady Belina's office easier in her mind than she had been for over a week. _I don't regret not taking her up on her offer_, Mercy thought. _Well, not much, anyway. The promotion certainly isn't tempting anymore, that's for sure. It's possible that she could have 'arranged' for Auron's dojo to become a popular activity for the children of the nobility, but I do not believe that is what he would want, or at least, I hope not. I bet she has connections that could have arranged for a recording contract, or more concerts. Now that is a tempting thought. I wish…I wish that were possible. But either, or both, would just have taken up more of my time, and that's already in too short a supply. Right now, we have a kind of balance, Auron and I. We have enough time apart so that we do not get on each other's nerves, but we have a lot of time together as well. It works for us. I would hate to do something to mess it up. What we have is so precious, I think because we had both given up hope of ever finding anything like what we have with each other, but we each also refused to settle for second best. We're both old enough to know the value of what we have… and still young enough to enjoy it. In spite of everything, we're very lucky_, she realized.

On her way back to her office, suddenly, everything and everyone in the world stopped except for herself, and the woman in the blue robes appeared before her again.  
"Willingness to fight on behalf of others. Refusal of desired rewards freely offered. You have passed the second trial." Shiva's voice rang in the suddenly chill air. Mercy shivered.  
"You have done well, child. Better than we hoped." The fayth paused. "We will meet again." Shiva snapped her fingers, and the world around Mercy returned to normal.

End Chapter Sixteen


	17. All I Want Is You

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The song "Fire Down Below" was written and performed at different times by Bob Seger and Bette Midler (and it does sound different each time), and "All I Want Is You" was written by Carly Simon, Jacob Brackman and Andy Goldmark, performed by Carly Simon, and I don't own them, either

* * *

They escaped the Via Purifico, all somewhat damaged in spirit, but as alive in body as when they had each entered Bevelle. When the party reached the safety of Lake Macalania, Yuna said she wanted to be alone, so she walked to the spring while the rest of the party halfheartedly set up camp. Kimahri followed her at a discreet distance, to give her the privacy she requested, while still keeping her safe. They had all suffered in some way from the ordeal at Bevelle. Wakka's faith in Yevon had been shaken, and even Lulu's. But Yuna was the one who had been most betrayed by her faith, her loyalty to the temples, her respect for the priests and especially her profound reverence for the maesters. Perhaps even her belief in the teachings had wavered. Auron was simply tired, he felt wearied to the bone. _If Yuna chooses to stop her pilgrimage, I do not have the heart to argue with her. After what has just occurred, she has more than earned the right to refuse to sacrifice herself for that bunch of pompous, unsent, shoopufs' asses. If she chooses to run to the Al Bhed with Tidus, and live out her life, she has my blessing. I'll save my arguments for Braska on the Farplane. I'm too damn tired to have them now. But I fear that… she is my lord's daughter, after all. I think she is too strong to give up now_.

Although Yuna had asked to be alone, not a single one of them, not even Lulu with her need to keep up the proprieties, really believed that Yuna should keep solitary company with her dark thoughts. Every member of the party suggested to Tidus that he should join Yuna at the spring, except for Kimahri. The Ronso remained silent, but he left his watch over his Summoner when the young man joined her at the waterside. And it was clear to everyone when they returned to the camp later, hand in hand, that their relationship had changed, but the only matter that was discussed was that they were continuing with the pilgrimage, and moving on in the morning.  
But after the disaster of Yuna's wedding, and the events that followed it, Auron spent too many hours that night remembering another wedding, in Zanarkand, three years before.

Zanarkand…three years ago

They had had an argument on the way home from the club where Mercy and Dafydd had performed that Sixthnight. Auron had been defending the warrior-monks' position of refusing to admit women, and naturally Mercy had been arguing for the Crusaders' admission of women to their ranks. It was one of their typical 'discussions' about the way things were done on Spira, heated, and intense. They had started, as they often did, with Mercy asking for details about everyday life in Spira, but it had ended with Auron questioning his basic assumptions about the way things were done. The more often she asked, "Why?" the more he found himself wondering about the answers. Mercy had told him more than once that the neighbors wondered why they stayed together; they so often acted like they were fighting. This time, another couple had entered the lift as they were leaving it, while their debate was at its most intense, and had clearly thought that they were both out of their minds. The other couple's expressions had been so comical that they had stopped talking and started laughing as soon as they were alone.

Mercy had woken up Lastday morning with the beginnings of a song in her head, and had practically locked herself in the spare room with her keyboard and started plunking out music before she even finished her morning tea. Auron knew he wasn't going to get much of her attention until she was done, whether he dragged her out of the apartment or not. His only problem was that Tidus was supposed to come over in the afternoon. _I can always take the boy to a game_, he thought, without much enthusiasm. _At least the kid is practicing regularly now, and doing well at it. Thanks to Mercy's help, I may manage to fulfill this part of my promise to Jecht after all._

By the time the boy arrived in mid-afternoon, Mercy had reached the 'obsessed' stage, she wouldn't notice if the building fell on her, as long as she completed the song. Auron opened the door, told her that he and Tidus were going out, got one of those distracted mumbles that meant she might remember later, and might not, and left with the boy. He was used to this now. The first few times this she had behaved this way, he had gone out of his mind. Now, he could almost predict the cycle. He believed that, based on the ratio of music to silence by the time he and Tidus left, she would probably be ready to push back from the keyboard by the time they returned for dinner. The song wouldn't be complete, but she would have enough committed to the keyboard machine's 'memory storage' that she would return to real life. He also knew that he wouldn't get to hear the song until she decided it was truly finished, however long that might take.

On the way to the stadium, the boy spied a wedding taking place in the park and pointed it out to the older man. "Why haven't you asked Mercy to marry you?" Tidus asked slyly. "What's the matter, old man? Afraid she might turn you down?"  
Auron replied in what he hoped was a quelling tone. "That is none of your business." _This always works when Mercy says it, why am I certain it will not work in this case?  
_Tidus went on anyway. "You might as well be married. I mean, you live together and everything."  
"I said, that is enough." Auron's arm chopped down, indicating that he wanted to cut this topic off, now.  
The boy couldn't resist one last sally, but it was under his breath. "You might as well get married. Neither of you will ever look for anyone else."  
Auron pretended to ignore both the words and the slightly acid tone of the boy's voice, but he could not forget what he had heard. The boy had certainly read him correctly. He had not been looking for Mercy, the fayth knew that all too well, but he would be an even greater fool if he were to throw away the gift they had given him in allowing that door to open two years ago. He would never look for another woman, whether or not Mercy reached the Farplane. But he still prayed with all his heart that she would.

In the days that followed, Auron couldn't stop thinking about what the boy had said. _Maybe I should ask her…but what would it mean, here, in Zanarkand?_ Ironically, he found himself in her 'territory', doing research. It seemed that marriage ceremonies in Zanarkand, as in Spira, included the words 'as long as we both shall live' or 'until death do us part' or a variation thereof. The only difference was that in Zanarkand the words were always meant literally, where in Spira, it was known that marriages could sometimes transcend death. He knew that Braska's marriage had been one such, that his friend had become a Summoner in part to revenge himself for his wife Jenni's death, and to meet her in the Farplane that much sooner. His own commitment to Mercy began because he had continued beyond his own death. For his part, it would go with him to the Farplane, whether or not she was waiting for him there. "Neither of you will ever look for anyone else," the boy had said. And he was right, for once. It was even possible that, if they married, it might make it easier for her to reach the Farplane. Easier somehow for her to reach beyond her own continuing doubt and disbelief.

But, like any man, he had his own, simpler doubts. _What if I ask, and she turns me down?_ He continued his internal debate, while she polished the song. In the end, he found his answer when she sang it for him.

The night Mercy decided to sing the new song the first time, she'd worn a mischievous smile during the first set that made her look rather like a cat in cream, so he expected that she had something special planned for this performance. After two years together, he had learned how to read many of her moods, but she could still surprise him when she wanted to.

She opened the second set with a song he had heard before, but the way she sang it made him wonder. She introduced the song as "Fire Down Below", and he'd heard her sing it any number of times. The hard, rock-and-roll beat pulsed in his blood, and when she strut across the stage, and then turned her back to the audience and looked over her shoulder and winked at him, he was aroused in an instant. Even after two years, she could still tease him from across a room with a single glance. He thought she always would.

She had chosen this song to begin because she was building a theme. Teasing Auron was just an extra benefit. The lyrics of the song were the same, whether it was sung by a man or a woman, but when a man sang it, it was simply about prostitution. To her, when a woman sang it, as when she herself did, it was also about just plain sex. Raw sex, no commitment.

When the street light flicker bringing on the night  
Well they'll be slipping into darkness slipping out of sight  
All through the midnight  
Watch 'em come and watch 'em go  
With only one thing in common  
They got the fire down below

As the applause faded for the first song, she began the second, "Slow Hand." She saw Auron flush under his tan as she started to sing. Neither of them would ever forget those first performances of this number. _But the steam doesn't come out of his ears any more_, she noted with some disappointment. This song was the next step in the arc she was trying to build. Still sex, but the song was showing that it might be about something more.

At last, it was time for the new song:

What do the neighbors say  
When they hear us scream at night  
Do they talk about a love  
All in tatters  
What do the neighbors know  
About the heart and soul  
The fire down below  
That really matters  
They can never guess  
In the silences  
That all I want is you  
And the sexy hurricane  
We got here  
All I want is you  
I don't want a man  
To say "good morning dear"  
Let 'em listen at the door  
Let 'em listen through the floor  
Let 'em go ahead and draw the wrong conclusion  
So chase me 'round the room  
Make me crazy like the moon  
They can never guess  
In the silences  
That all I want is you  
And the sexy hurricane that we share  
All I want is you…

At first, he was simply stunned. Then embarrassment replaced his initial shock, and his face flushed even darker than before. _Why does she do this to me?_ _This song is…much too close to the truth. The neighbors who see us argue in the lift, or hear us in the corridor. The elderly lady from down the hall, who kindly offered to provide Mercy with some lessons on exactly how to 'unman' me, as she put it. I hobbled up behind Mercy just then, limping painfully as a result of a well-placed, or ill-placed, from my perspective, kick of Mercy's on my thigh from that afternoon's sparring session that had very nearly done the task the old woman was talking about. The old lady stared me down for a few seconds, gave Mercy an appraising look and said to her, "Never mind, dearie, I can see that you already know just how to manage this one." _He remembered Mercy's sweet mouth and hands on him that night, promising to "make it up to him" and telling him to "just lie back and enjoy." That memory made him instantly hard. _At least she left out the ones who sometimes pound on the bedroom ceiling of the apartment below…or occasionally on the floor of the one above._ Her eyes met his, and she smiled that mischievous smile again. _You know I can't resist you. don't you, my lady_, he thought, as he grinned back at her.

In the repeat at the end of the song, he finally received the underlying message, the one he should have heard all along. "Neither of you will ever look for anyone else," the boy had said. "All I want is you," she sang to him. He didn't understand why, he had never understood why she loved him, why she bothered to put up with his moods and his temper, but he knew that when she sang for him like that, her words were true.

On the way home, he stopped suddenly at the base of one of the towers. "Let's go up. I want to ask you something." He simply could not wait any longer. He thought he knew now what her answer would be, but he had to be certain. There would be no need to jump over the security chain this time, he just wanted a little privacy, so they rode the lift to the first balcony and exited to stand by the rail. They faced each other, ignoring the view of the city. He looked and sounded very serious as he asked, "Mercy, will you marry me?"  
She peered up into his face, trying to read his expression. _Damn, stupid, dark glasses. Why is he wearing them at a time like this? I can't see his face._ She placed her hands at his temples, tilted his dark glasses up to the top of his head, and asked, "Are you sure?"  
He pulled her close, so that her hands settled on his shoulders, as his face lit in a gentle smile. "I am certain, my lady."  
Her answering smile was brighter than the starlight. "Then yes, I will marry you." Their lips met in a mind-drugging kiss. "Let's go home, where we can celebrate," she breathed. By the time they were inside the apartment, their anticipation had become a raw, aching need. They left a trail of clothing from just inside the door to the living room couch, which was all the further they managed for a while. Eventually, they made it to bed.

The next morning was Lastday, so they were expecting to see Tidus later. Meanwhile, they were sitting on the living room couch, discussing the mundane aspects of getting married, since Auron wasn't ever going to tell Mercy he'd done any research into the subject.  
"Without temples, how is this done? Who performs the ceremony if there are no priests?"  
"This must seem so strange to you. We can get married wherever we want. Here, your dojo, a restaurant, a park. The place doesn't matter. And, since all weddings in Zanarkand are civil ceremonies, almost anyone can officiate."  
"You're not serious." He had read about this, but it had not made any sense then, either.  
She laughed softly. "Yes, I am. Most people have a judge perform the ceremony. But any adult can get a one-day permit to perform a wedding ceremony. Honestly. Tidus isn't old enough, but Daf or Marko could do it if we asked. But anyway, I know a judge, the one who helped Daf and I when we were kids. He's retired now, but I'd like to ask him, if you don't mind. His wife was my mentor at the Archives when I was first starting out, and it would really mean a lot to me."  
He took her hands in his. "That will be fine."  
She turned serious. "Without a priest, will this seem, well, valid, to you, Auron?"  
"As valid, as you say, as a temple wedding… or maybe even more so. I know what Yevon is. He is not…worthy of being worshipped. I believe that the commitment is in our hearts, the ceremony is a mere…formality, a celebration of our promises to each other."  
She leaned over and kissed him gently. "You have that exactly right, love." She kissed him again, radiant with joy, then she cuddled against his side, and he settled his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close. She picked up his free hand, and began to caress it between her two hands.  
"Auron, on Spira, is it traditional to exchange rings, or other marriage tokens?" she asked, as she played with his fingers.  
"Usually, but not always."  
"Here, too. It is traditional, but the tradition is not followed 100 of the time. Also, sometimes the woman wears a ring but not the man." She stopped for a moment to consider, then went on. "I'll make a deal with you. I'll wear a ring if you will." A pause, then, "Deal?" She looked up and met his gaze steadily. _I know he never wears jewelry of any kind, none._ _He probably won't want to do this, either_.  
He looked back at her. _This would be a symbol that I could carry with me._ "Deal," he said simply. "I will wear it…always." _I give you my word_.

Auron knew a weaponsmith who knew an expert jewelry-maker who agreed to see them about possibly making their rings. Galdan only worked by appointment, and might not have time to actually do the work, but the friend-of-a-friend network was in good enough working order to get them in to see the 'great man'. Something about the couple made Galdan decide to take the commission, or perhaps he was prompted by the young man almost visible in the shadowy corner of the room. Ifrit was pleased enough by this development to grant the craftsman a momentary vision of Auron and Mercy as the fayth saw them, so Galdan designed a pair of rings to fit these images. The rings complemented, rather than copied, each other. Mercy's ring was more delicate, primarily consisting of a silver band, but the top of the ring was shaped into a flat oval. Inside the oval a diamond shaped lozenge was outlined in black. The lozenge was filled in with gold, polished flat, but with the veins still showing in the metal. Auron's ring was heavier, but was otherwise opposite, a heavy gold band, opening to a flat top like a signet ring, with the same diamond shaped lozenge outlined in black. On his ring, the lozenge was filled with silver veined ore. The symbology was elegant to the artisan's eye, the essence of each in the other. If they approved the designs, the rings could be completed in a month. They very much approved, and set the date for their wedding accordingly.

The private ceremony took place six sennights later. They had intended to have just a few friends in attendance, but Auron had not realized that such a list would mean that twenty people would be invited to their wedding. He was astounded to realize that he had invited five of them himself, Sensei Hikaru, three of his adult students, and the weaponsmith he had been working with since he came to the city. Truly, he had invited six people if one counted Tidus, who proceeded to tell everyone in the small restaurant, one of their favorites that they had rented for the occasion, that he was responsible for the fact that the wedding was taking place at all. Auron was nervously alternating between staying near Tidus, who was talking enough to cover for the fact that he himself was completely tongue-tied, and standing with Dafydd and Marko, repeatedly asking Dafydd why it was taking Mercy so long to change clothes and get back in here. His palms were sweating and his mouth was dry as dust. _What if she is having second thoughts? What do they call it? Cold feet? Her feet are always cold. I mean, what if she has changed her mind?_  
Auron hadn't spoken aloud, but Dafydd could figure out most of what the poor man was thinking from the expression on his face, and the way he kept glancing back to the door Mercy should have opened several minutes ago. He looks different, Dafydd thought, so Daf studied the other man for few seconds, trying to figure out what had changed. _The lights are bright in here, and Merce must have coerced him into wearing a white shirt for a change, but that's not all of it. The white shirt, the bright lights, the uncertainty on his face, this is the first time I've ever seen him look so scared, or so young. He's what, thirty-two now? I keep forgetting that he's five years younger than I am. No wonder he's half out of his mind wondering where she is. She's ten minutes late. If I were him, I'd be petrified by now._  
Dafydd spoke up. "Hey, Auron, you want me to go see what's keeping her?"  
"Please," Auron begged.  
  
Mercy was in the bathroom, staring at the mirror. She had changed into her dress some time ago, a carbon-blue silk confection that dipped into a vee at her neck, tied around her waist and ended in a handkerchief hem around her knees. She was perfectly happy with the dress and how she looked in it. Instead she was thinking about all the things she should have been thinking about, would have been worrying about, if life were 'normal'. If she did not know that that her world would end in three more years. _But the world is coming to an end in three years. So, if I could pick anything, anything at all, to do today, what would I pick? Marry Auron, what else?_ She met her own eyes in the mirror, and smiled softly.  
"Hey sis, you okay in there?" The concern in Dafydd's voice came through the door.  
"What's the matter? Is everything okay out there?"  
"Is everyone okay out here? Is everything okay in there? You're the one who's fifteen minutes late, Merce. If you're not having cold feet, please get your butt out here before Auron starts tearing down the walls, will you?" he pleaded.  
Mercy opened the door, and Dafydd whistled in appreciation. "I think he'll probably decide it was worth the wait. Has the man ever even seen you in a dress?" She shook her head. "He'll definitely think it was worth the wait. You ready?"  
Her expression was uncertain, as she looked into his face. Then she sighed, and said, "I'm ready." Dafydd tucked her hand into his arm, and started leading her down the hallway. She continued staring at his profile as the walked. "Daf, stop for minute. I need to tell you something, but I don't have time to explain anything right now. You'll just have to take this on faith. Just…trust me, okay?"  
"Merce, you know I trust you. I trust you with my life. Just tell me." He stopped, and turned to face her.  
"It's not a…tell, exactly, it's…more of an…ask, I guess. Daf, if you knew, knew, for sure, for certain, and for true, that the world was going to end in three years, how would you live your life for those years?" Her voice, and her expression, were completely serious as she looked into his eyes.  
His face was puzzled. "I don't know. I'd have to think about it."  
She took his face between her two hands, and stared into his eyes. "Then think about it, Daf. Think about it very, very seriously. Live your dreams, honey, here and now, because that's all we have." Then she flung her arms around his neck, and hugged him tightly, and he squeezed her in his arms. And as he did, he remembered the man waiting in the other room to marry her, the man who had swept her off her feet two years ago, when her life began to change. The man who appeared out of nowhere, saying he came from outside the city, where no one had ever come from; bearing a hellish scar that no one in the city could ever have even gotten, that if they had, would have been healed in moments with little or no trace by healers in the city's hospitals; a man carrying in his soul an edge of darkness and violence of a kind that could not have been born in this bright, gleaming city.  
They let go of each other, and Mercy smiled now, a little tremulously. "I'm sorry to dump that on you now, but that's what I was thinking about, back there. I suddenly couldn't not tell you."

He tucked her hand back into his arm. "We'll have to talk about this more, later, but I think I have an inkling. But if you're still planning to go through with this, you need to get in there. Auron really looked like he was afraid you were going to bolt on him. Either that, or like he was about to throw up." Dafydd tried to lighten the mood for her, remind her that this was her wedding day.  
"We'd better hurry, then," she answered, as she practically pulled him down the hall.

When the door opened, and Mercy stepped through on her brother's arm, the radiant smile on her face made all of Auron's nervous agitation vanish instantly. As Mercy made her way through the room toward him, Auron again experienced the illusion that he often did as she walked towards him, that brief moment when he seemed to see her with both eyes, but he put it out of his mind when she took his hand. As Mercy repeated the words of her vows, she was awed by the commitment they were making, and a little afraid. As she repeated, "Until death do us part," she was suddenly afraid how Auron might take it if she couldn't pull off the 'trick' of reaching this Farplane of his. _I love him so much; I don't want him to face eternity alone, if that is what these words really mean. Maybe I should have said no, after all._  
He watched the growing panic on her face, and guessed what she was thinking. He shook his head slightly. _Doesn't she know by now that it does not matter? There will never be anyone else for me_. He repeated his own vows in a steady voice. They exchanged rings, each placing a ring on the other's left hand. Then the judge intoned the final words of the ceremony, "I now pronounce you husband and wife." As he kissed his bride, Auron had the sudden thought that, on Spira, she would officially be 'Lady Mercy' as of this moment. If only there was a way to get her to Spira…

…Spira…Lake Macalania

Yuna woke in the middle of the night, and looked around the camp at her guardians, her friends. She couldn't go back to sleep, she was too worried about the trouble she had caused them all, so she sat up to think, instead. Her gaze rested on each bedroll, as it represented one of her companions in this peril. Lulu and Rikku were sleeping closest to her, now that Lulu had returned to minding the proprieties. In a way, if Lulu was her big sister, Rikku was fast becoming her little sister. Wakka and Tidus were next. Wakka, her big brother, might be even more disturbed than she was at the knowledge they had gained about the true face of Yevon. Then Tidus, her love, and now, her lover. She hugged that flicker of happiness close to her in the dark. Last, guarding them all, Kimahri's empty bedroll, as he was standing watch, and Sir Auron, who was apparently having a nightmare, or something close to it. Yuna could see that he was agitated, his head turning back and forth, and he was saying the same word, over and over, "Mercy, mercy, mercy." Then his right hand pawed the ground, as if he was searching for something, or maybe someone, Yuna thought to herself, as he tried to pull whatever he was reaching for towards him, then, when his arm was against his side, he stilled.

Auron woke. After five years of sleeping with Mercy curled against his right side, he still searched for her in the night, like someone who has had an arm or leg amputated still felt pain in the lost limb. It seemed that nearly three months alone hadn't yet burned into his brain that she was gone.

End Chapter Seventeen


	18. Seven Bridges Road

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The title of this chapter is from a song originally performed by the Eagles.

* * *

The party reached the Calm Lands Travel Agency the following afternoon, only to be met by Father Zuke, with his news that they had been officially declared traitors to Yevon. Yuna tried not to show how much his words weighed on her, but it was clearly difficult for her. She discovered that it was one thing to believe something horrible, and quite another to hear it confirmed. 

Auron was cautiously optimistic about the information regarding Kelk Ronso, but he was not completely surprised, considering that the Ronso Elder had not stayed to witness their 'sentencing' to the Via Purifico. Auron had not thought that murdering one's father would be consistent with the Ronso's concept of honor. He reflected that Yuna's straight spirit might yet win them a pass over Gagazet, in spite of Mika's pronouncement, now that he was certain that Kelk had left Yevon. What would happen on the other side of the mountain was still a problem to be solved, but at least now Auron thought they had a chance of reaching Zanarkand to solve it.

But Yuna was clearly troubled by Zuke's words, and they were all still weary after Bevelle. They also needed to take this opportunity to replenish their supplies, as the Palace guards had pilfered their belongings, and Yuna's small pack had been taken from her when she had been captured and never returned. This might be their last chance to restock before they reached Zanarkand. The party would be lucky if the Ronso gave them safe passage over Gagazet, under the circumstances. Hospitality was probably too much to hope for. Auron conferred with Kimahri. They agreed that the best plan was to stay the night at the Agency, using the time to open all their bags, replenish and repack, spend the night where they could count on the Agency guards instead of their own, and let everyone get some much-needed rest.

The campsite was first, set up in one of the 'loops' of the Agency grounds, allowing for an arrangement that placed Yuna closest to the center of the Agency, with Auron and Kimahri on the outside edge of the group. The two warriors were not truly planning to rely wholly upon the Agency guards. After a thorough inventory of the contents of their packs and bags, Rikku and Lulu were delegated to negotiate for what the party needed. Rikku did the negotiating in the Al Bhed tongue, while Lulu and her Cait Sith glared from behind. A fair division of labor that seemed to result in a large number of items at reasonable prices, and a dinner that no one in the party had to cook, a rare treat for everyone.

After the fruits of their labor were eaten or distributed, it was time to settle down for the night. Auron lay on his back, with his hands clasped behind his head, gazing up at the stars. He and Kimahri had agreed earlier, they would pretend to sleep, and split the watch, Auron first, Kimahri second. He checked that his katana was by his left hand, and then stopped. It wasn't just the katana. Everything he had removed for the night was at his left. Still…

Zanarkand…beginning fourteen months ago, ending three months ago

Jecht sent him a dream. In the dream, even though his friend's back was turned to him, he still knew it was Jecht. That wild hair, and the way he cracked his neck. The dream was in Zanarkand, but the ruined Zanarkand he had seen when he rode Sin from Spira to this dream city. Jecht spoke to him, in his dream, "How's my boy doin'? I'm coming in one year, Auron. You got any unfinished business, you better start finishin' it." Auron woke, but tried to keep still, not to wake Mercy sleeping beside him. _There is still time_, he thought. He rolled onto his side, pulling her sleeping form against his chest. He kissed her awake. They made love in the middle of the night, desperate to keep the future at bay for a little while longer. _Five years had never been enough_.

Six months later, he had a similar dream. Jecht again, but this time he let Auron respond to his questions.  
"So, how's my boy doin' now?" Jecht challenged.  
"He made your old team six months ago. They say he's a rising star, the 'new hope of Blitzball' according to one of the announcers." Auron strove to keep his dream voice calm, in spite of his rising tension.

"Good, good. I wanted him to get the 'view from the top', like we talked about. I wish it could be for longer. He's got six more months to enjoy it." Suddenly, there was an edge to Jecht's voice, "And you've got six more months to enjoy, well, whatever it is you're doin', too." Jecht was laughing, laughing at him, and his harsh laughter echoed in Auron's mind as he twisted up in bed, taking the covers with him.  
"What is it, love?" Mercy asked groggily, as she started to pull the blankets back.  
Auron's voice was a flat monotone when he responded, torn between rage and fear, and unwilling to show either. "We have six months left."  
"I know, I've been keeping track, she admitted sleepily, "but that's not what's bothering you right now."  
"I had a dream, just now. I saw Jecht. He knows about you. Sin knows about you. About us."  
She sat up, wrapped her arms around his waist, tucked her head into the hollow of his shoulder. "What do you think it means?"  
He rested his cheek against her hair. Close like this, he couldn't hide his emotions, so he stopped trying. He held her, the tight circle of his arms conveying his fear for her. "You will be a target when Sin comes. He doesn't know you personally, so I doubt he will be able to find you in a crowd, but he knows where I was tonight, so this building will be destroyed. If we are together when Sin takes me, he will know for certain who you are; you will die an unclean death, and not reach the Farplane." He paused. "Damn Jecht," he said with vehemence, after a long pause.  
"What was that last bit about?" Mercy was still a little confused.  
"When he told me he knew about us, he was laughing at me. I'm not sure if it was Sin, or if it was the old Jecht. It could have been either one. Damn Jecht. He never would have thought you would look at me twice," he muttered. _What is it about that man? Damn. Talking with him sends me back ten years, makes me feel like a boy again._  
_This is just a male ego problem now_, Mercy thought. _I wonder, did Braska ever just want to knock their heads together?_ _Probably wouldn't have done him any good. I would be willing to bet a lot of money that Jecht's head was just as hard as Auron's. Maybe even harder, when he was drunk_.

They only had six months left. It was stupid to waste a second of that time over this sort of nonsense. She could think of one way to bring him back to the present and soothe his wounded pride at the same time. She unclasped her hands from around his waist, letting her arm around his back fall until her hand rested on his bare hip. Her right hand trailed across his chest, at first tracing idle patterns, eventually following the line of hair down the center. By the time she reached the hard, ridged muscles of his stomach, she had his complete attention. They did not waste much of the rest of the night in sleep.

Three months later, another dream, much the same as the last. They had made plans for this, now they set them in motion. Mercy quit her 'day job', as she had always called it. Auron closed the dojo, but kept the space rented. They had enough money to take care of every material thing they needed, or even wanted, in the time remaining to them, and time was now much more precious than money, so there was no longer any reason to continue to bother with anything that resembled 'work' in the usual sense. And Auron felt the need to train for the pilgrimage, at least as much as was possible in this dream city. The dojo had kept him in shape, but teaching had certainly not required the same mental preparation and physical discipline, as would lives depending on his skills; his summoner's, his fellow guardians', his own continued existence until his task was done.

-

The plans were not his original ones. His original intent had been for him to go outside the city, alone, hunting down the most dangerous beasts and monsters that he could find, returning to the city at regular intervals. When he announced this, not long after the second dream, Mercy turned on him in fury.  
"Auron, you really are a damn fool idiot if you think I'm going to wait here in the city for you to show up at 'regular intervals'. We have less than six months left. I'm not letting you go, or I'm going with you. I can't believe you'd even think for one second that I'd do anything different."  
"But it will be extremely dangerous. I need to seek out the most fearsome creatures I can find, even fiends if there are any to be found here. I must prowl through the hills, push myself as hard as I can." His voice sounded apologetic, even to his own ears.  
She was tearing around the room in a rage, spitting her words at him. "And what? You don't think I can't cut it? Don't be insulting. You know me better than that."  
"That is not the issue. But if something goes wrong…if you die out there…in battle…that kind of sudden, violent death…no summoner…you won't reach the Farplane." His voice shook. Just saying it out loud, the idea that she might be killed that way, that he would lose her forever, tore him apart.  
She turned back to face him, and grabbed his hand, gripping it tightly. "I love you, damn it. But I just can't believe in your Farplane." She saw him shudder in horror. "I promise, love, when the time comes, I will do my best to get there." She brought her other hand up to touch his cheek. "I promise. But what I believe in is here and now. This." She squeezed his hand. "We have less than six months left together. I won't give up one second of that time. Not one. If you need to go up into the hills…that's fine, we'll go together. But if you try to go without me, I'll just follow you." She searched his face, trying to see if he understood her resolve.  
His expression softened. "How would you follow me? You sleep later than I do." He smiled gently down at her. _She has won. No, we have both won. I did not truly want to go without her. I would have come back to the city far too often for the exercise to have been worthwhile. This is for the best. I will just have to protect her, keep her safe, without her knowing it. But it will be worth it to have her by my side…for as long as I can_.  
She saw that the fight was over, that he had given in. _Thank goodness_, she sighed. _I couldn't bear the idea of arguing this one out for the next six months_. She leaned forward and slid her arms around him. Her face muffled against his chest, she said, "I wouldn't have had to follow you, I would have tied you to the bed." Relief overtook him, and he burst out laughing.

-

The plan they eventually settled upon was a simple one, but Auron was certain within a couple of sennights that the memories it would leave him with would haunt him through the lonely days and nights ahead. Each Firstday, they set off through the gates of the city, hiking into the hills. Sometime near the beginning of Sennight's End, they would return, aching, footsore, bruised, and more often than not, blood-spattered as well. Over the 'End, she would put in some practice time with Dafydd, do one or two performances, and they would spend some time with Tidus. Since Mercy had lost the arguments, plural, and the boy was not to know anything about Spira, they did not reveal to him anything about the true nature of their expeditions. They both just told him they were taking long vacations from their jobs, and he was so caught up in Blitzball that he simply didn't pay much attention to what they were doing, as long as it didn't embarrass him in some way.  
The very first morning, they left the city at a time Auron would have called 'bright and early', but he had learned never to utter that phrase within Mercy's hearing. She had told him near the beginning of their relationship that she could be either bright or early, but never both at the same time. Looking down at the woman by his side he mused, s_he would never have been able to follow me, and I do not care. I want her here, now. I just hope she is awake before something attacks us. Hell, no. What am I thinking? I hope nothing attacks us…attacks her. Oh shit. What am I doing? What am I thinking?_  
She squinted up at him. The sun was bright this morning. "Don't worry, love. I really am awake. And I would have followed you, don't you think otherwise."  
"Mindreader," he teased.  
"Only with you," she sassed back, as they kept walking.

She had read his mind earlier that morning, in spite of being more than half-asleep. Getting dressed to leave, he'd just pulled his Spiran clothes out of the closet, what Mercy called his 'traveling' clothes, and put them back on. She hated them enough as it was, they were too much of a reminder that he would be leaving soon, but she understood the necessity. However, she had stopped him when he started to put on his collar, grabbed it out of his hand and pitched it into the back of the closet, not even bothering to see where it landed. "No," she had snarled. "You're not wearing that. You're not hiding from me. Not now. Not yet. That's not armor. That's a mask. When you leave, not before." As she spat out the words she had yanked on her own clothes, black leggings, the black tunic of a gi, a wide crimson cloth wrapped around her midriff to cinch in her shirt, a pair of thigh-high black boots. When he did not argue, she stuck her swords through the makeshift belt in position for a cross draw, rather emphatically, as though to emphasize her point. _I did not argue with her this morning because she was right_, he thought as they walked. _Even more blunt than normal, but still right._ _The collar is a mask. It hides my scar…and my face. I did not want her to see…how much I fear for her_. Then the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. _But I should have known better by now than to raise her ire first thing in the morning. She would probably have taken my head off with one of her swords if I had not agreed with her_.

In the city, she had always, automatically, walked on his right side, as she did now. In the scrubland they had now reached, he was aware of the enormity of what that meant. _I am…a warrior. For ten years, I have been…blind…on my right side. And for the last five years…I have trusted this woman to guard my right side…my blind side…even while I slept_. He opened his mouth to speak, but just at that moment she raised her hand and shaded her eyes, then pointed into the distance on her right, where he would never have seen the problem heading in their direction. "Auron, look! There's something out there, moving towards us, and it's coming on pretty fast," she cried.

Five dire wolves streaked towards them, circling them just beyond the reach of his now drawn katana. His heart was in his throat, and his belly was churning with fear; not for himself, but for her. These were not his favorite kind of opponents; too fast, too agile, and much too good at working together to get in each other's way. His usual tactic would be to let them come in close, well within the reach of his sword, because they were much too elusive for him to have much success if he went after them. He would take some damage that way, but he would survive. But with Mercy in the picture, that was not even an option. Then she reached into the top of her right boot, plucked out a knife, and threw it into one of the wolves facing her. When it dropped in its tracks, Mercy was almost as surprised as the other wolves. "I see you've been practicing with those," he muttered, indicating both the thrown knife and the one remaining in her left boot top.  
"Yes," she agreed shakily. "But I wasn't sure if that would really work," she continued, as she drew her swords. While the remaining canines were sniffing their fallen pack member, Auron was able to step forward and add another corpse to the pile. That stirred them up again, and the three still living began to circle again. Mercy, emboldened by her luck with the knife, attacked one of the three with her swords, slicing it open with her crossed blades as it lunged for her, while Auron desperately tried to engage the other two. He sliced one cleanly in half, but the other pranced away. It must have discovered that Mercy had killed its mate, because then the last beast went after her in a rage. With its attention firmly fixed on Mercy, Auron was able to dispatch it before it could do her any damage.

His gaze swept over her, crown to boots and back, several times, reassuring himself that she was all right, that the rips in her clothing didn't mean anything serious, and that the blood on her face and hands was from the wolves. She was grinning at him. "I can do it, I can do it," she shouted. "I did it," she continued, almost jumping up and down in her excitement. "I didn't know if I really could," her voice trailed off, suddenly, staring up into his face.  
He carefully took her in his arms, cradling her close, in spite of the fact that both of them were still holding swords that needed to be cleaned. _Am I going to feel like this, every time I watch you fight? When that dire wolf attacked you, I thought my heart would stop_, his mind was still reeling, as his heart hammered.  
Her head against his chest, she opened her eyes and saw the bodies of the dead wolves on the ground. "Auron, what do we do with…those?" she asked uncertainly.  
"We will leave them for the carrion eaters," he replied without hesitation. "Do not worry, they will not lie there long enough to rot."  
At that last remark, her face turned green, and she stumbled away to throw up behind a bush, dropping her swords in her haste. The reality of what she had just done had caught up with her, and it made her sick to her stomach.  
He gathered up her weapons carefully, then went to kneel beside her, laying their blades down within easy reach in case of another attack. "I'm sorry, my lady. I should have thought…"  
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Not your fault. I wanted to come. I should have realized what would happen. I just didn't think it through. I never killed anything before. I guess there's a first time for everything. I just hope that…tonight…we camp someplace where I can bathe," she finished in a still slightly shaky voice.  
"You can go back," he offered. "I can take you back to the city." _Please, my lady. Stay with me. I will protect you, somehow. Don't go_. He closed his eye, hoping for the answer he wanted, needed, and not the answer he knew he should want.  
"I can adapt," she said firmly. "You'll just have to help me."  
He leaned his forehead against hers. "Yes."

The dire wolves attacked them three more times before they reached the hills. By the last attack, she had learned not to be sick in the aftermath. She just hoped it wasn't because her stomach had run out of anything it could possibly heave back at her. After each encounter, as they continued walking towards the hills, they went over and over the previous battles, discussing strategy and tactics, trying to work out more effective ways to fight together, as a team, instead of just two armed individuals trying not to get in the way of each other's swords.

When they began climbing, they left the dire wolf hunting grounds behind, and moved into bear country. Auron thought the bears would be easier for him to deal with, they were larger and slower than the wolves, and tended to hunt alone. Two armed humans against one bear were much better odds than their last fight with an entire wolf pack. Their first two bear encounters went well, even though they experimented with different methods of confusing or circling the creatures, and they bested the beasts easily. The last came at dusk, and was nearly disastrous. They found themselves between a mother bear and her two half-grown cubs, foraging apart from one another. When the mother realized that the humans were between her and her cubs, she charged, fixing on Mercy as the smaller, easier path to reach her babies. Mercy's swords were up, trying to keep the massive clawed 'hands' from rending her in two, as she danced around the bear, trying to keep the great beast from simply knocking her over in its rage. Mercy and the bear were so close; it was difficult for Auron to see a clear path for his great sword. Mercy tripped and fell suddenly, and he sliced through the beast's massive neck, killing it instantly, spraying blood everywhere. He didn't even hear the bear cubs crashing through the undergrowth, disappearing from the scene, as he dropped to his knees, and slipped his arm under Mercy's shoulders, raising her head. Her eyes opened, and focused on his face, bleached white under his tan. "I think I've had enough for one day," she whispered.

He sat on the ground, then pulled her up, until she was sitting in his lap, her head on his shoulder, his arms tight around her. "I think I have too," he finally answered in a hoarse voice.  
They found a small lake not far away, and without any further encounters with any hostile creatures. The water ran cold, but Mercy didn't care. After they tended each other's minor wounds, ate their evening meal, and smothered the small cooking fire they had used to heat it, she stripped and immersed herself in the cold, clear water, and washed off all the dirt, all the sweat, all the blood, and all the illusions she had had about what this trip would be like. Rising from the water, shivering with cold, she looked up to find Auron's gaze fastened upon her, hot and hungry, and that he was holding the blankets open for her to lay herself down beside him. She saw that he was completely naked, and already fully aroused, just from watching her. She slipped into the doubled bedroll next to him, to share his warmth, and his love.  
In the morning, they began again, hunting down whatever prey they could find…or battling whatever might find them. When twilight fell, they camped by a swiftly running stream.

One sennight, they made the trip that they had spoken of at the very beginning, and she took Auron to see the barrier. They had to drive themselves hard to make it there and back in the time they had between seeing Tidus for lunch one Lastday and getting back to the city in time for Mercy's next show the following Sixthnight, but they managed it, just barely. They were helped by the fact that this one road was deserted; there were no beasts or fiends to contend with. This answered a question that had been puzzling Auron since their first expedition, he had wondered how Mercy had managed to travel this far alone, without having killed any creatures along the way. "It was like this before," she told him. "I saw things in the distance, but nothing ever seemed to get near this road. At the time, I didn't know any better, but now, I wonder if it was because I was meant to go there."  
"Meant?" he inquired.  
"So that I would believe you." He looked at her incredulously, as she stared into the distance, thinking of Shiva. She shook her head. "Sorry, I guess that sounds strange. Forget about it," she gestured dismissively.  
He thought of Yojimbo. "Maybe you're right," he admitted.  
Behind them, a blue shimmer winked in and out of existence.

They reached the barrier late in the afternoon on Seconday. Auron found that he could not hide his disappointment from her, although he had managed to conceal his secret hopes until they had arrived here. "What is the matter?" she asked him. "You look crushed."  
He swept off his dark glasses and peered intently into the fog, as though sight would reveal a different answer than the one he already knew to be true. "I had thought…no…I had hoped…that there might be a way." He stopped, unable to continue.  
"That I could get to Spira from here, the way Jecht did?" she asked eagerly.  
"Perhaps," he answered gently, "But that was not likely. Jecht rode Sin. I had truly hoped, that you might…go to the Farplane…directly…from here…by just walking through the barrier. I thought that it might be what is on the other side of this…mist. But now that I am here, I know that it is not," he finished, dejected.  
"Are you sure?" she asked gently.  
"I am certain. I am always able to feel the pull of the Farplane. In Spira, the short while I was there before I came here, I could feel it drawing me. Here, in Zanarkand, the pull is very weak. It is no stronger in this spot than any other, so I know that the Farplane cannot be just on the other side of that…it is a valley in Spira, I do not know what it is here. This was a false hope, but I needed to see it to be certain of that."  
"But what do you think is on the other side, then? If it is not Spira, and not your Farplane, what is left?" puzzlement filled her voice.  
Behind her, an adamantoise emerged from the mist. "Hell. That is what's left," he answered. "We have some unwelcome company. Behind you, my lady."

She whipped around, drawing her swords, as he drew his blade from its sheath at his back. As the fiend slowly approached, Mercy asked, "Where exactly do you think our 'little' friend here came from?"  
"Inside Sin, there is a nightmare reflection of Zanarkand. I am afraid that may be what is beyond the barrier. But I have no desire to test my theory." He took his eye off the creature lumbering toward them to look down at his wife for a second.  
"Nor I, love. Don't worry about that. Let's just get rid of 'junior' here, and head back." She smiled up at him, and said; "I think you get first dibs on this one. If you don't crack his shell, I'm not going to hurt him much." She paused to consider. "Unless you want me to try standing on his head, and trying to stick him in the eyes from there?" she asked archly.  
Auron shuddered, and drove into the beast's shell with an armor-cracking stroke of his sword. It returned the favor by sweeping them with its heavy tail. It caught Auron in the side, knocking him down, while Mercy jumped over it easily. She sliced at its neck with her swords, wounding it seriously and distracting it long enough for him to pick himself up and get in a crippling strike at one of the fiend's stumpy legs, which slowed its movements down even further. It tried to spray them with its breath, which they both managed to dodge this time, and Mercy was able to get in and blind one of its eyes, as Auron came in from the other side and got his massive sword in under its shell again. But its leg wasn't as crippled as they had thought and they were both badly surprised by another tail sweep, the only thing that saved them from a third was that the creature's leg gave out as it tried to pivot to administer a third one, and they were able to get up and pounce on it before it could try again. This time, Auron made sure to take off its leg, while Mercy blinded its other eye. They made short work of the beast after that; adrenaline keeping them from noticing their wounds until after the battle was over. It was only as the fiend dispersed into pyreflies that Auron realized that his ribs felt like they'd been kicked in, and Mercy knees gave way and she sat down on the ground with a 'thump'.

As soon as she caught her breath, she stood up. "I know, I know, we have to get out of here. It can't possibly be safe to camp here. We'll go back to the stream to camp." She paused, then she gingerly put her arms around him, mindful of bruised ribs. "I'm sorry, love."  
He grabbed her, and held her crushingly close, not caring about his bruises at all. "I am, too, my lady. I had hoped this would be an easier way."  
"I promise I will do my best, love. I promise. I promise," she repeated.

The days and nights passed all too swiftly, until the night Auron woke in cold sweat, still hearing Jecht's voice in his mind, "You don't have much time left. You better be ready when I get there." Reflexively he gripped Mercy's shoulder, as he counted off the sennights in his head. _It has been six sennights, since that last dream, so we have six left_. His heart pounded, and he tried to calm himself by listening to the sound of the small waterfall they had camped by. The sound of the water splashing into the pool at the fall's base had seemed so soothing just a few short hours ago. Now each splash represented a moment that had slipped away forever. He turned on his side, pulling Mercy into a 'spoon' position against the front of his body, cradling her close as she slept. _These last six sennights, she has 'adapted' just as she said she would. On that first day, I was not certain which of us would have more difficulty with the…process. But my initial trust was not misplaced. She has become a true partner, in every sense. Even if my heart fails me each time I see her fall. It becomes more difficult each day…to imagine that I will leave her behind…but I know that I must. But she would do well in Spira…she would make a better Guardian than most…certainly better than Jecht did when he began._ Thinking of Jecht made him bite back a curse.  
Mercy turned in his arms to face him. "You had another dream?" she asked quietly.  
"I'm sorry, I was trying not to wake you," he replied as he leaned his forehead against hers.  
"S'okay. I needed to know. We're running out of time, aren't we?" She sighed. "We've always been running out of time," she finished sadly.  
"How can you be so calm about this? I wish there were something, or someone, I could fight for you. I do not want to leave you," he stared into her eyes, trying to understand what she was thinking and feeling. He felt as if he was ready to explode with the need to beat something to a pulp.  
Tears spilled out of her eyes. "What good would it do, love? Who would you fight? If I started to rant and rave, you're the only one I could take it out on, and that wouldn't help. I'd probably drive you away, and that's the last thing I want." She started to sniffle. "I don't even want to be crying like this, because I know it won't make any difference. When you're gone, I don't want you to remember me all weepy." She pulled up a corner of the blanket and wiped her face.  
"Do not worry, my lady. What I will remember," he choked. "What I will remember…is that you brought me more joy than I ever knew existed," he barely finished past the lump in his throat.  
Her voice dropped to husky purr, as she molded herself against him. "Then love me, now," she whispered, her tone a caress. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and pulled her on top of him as his lips claimed hers in reply.

…Spira…Calm Lands

_I know that I could not have brought her with us. The boy has tried to ask me why I did not, over and over, but I know that I could not have brought her. I am certain. If I had tried, Jecht would have torn her to pieces, right in front of us. He would have made an example of her…just to hurt us both. I know the boy loved her too; so destroying her would have given him just one more reason to kill Jecht. As if Tidus didn't already have enough reasons to hate his father. _  
He paused in his thoughts. _I am trying to convince myself, not the boy_, he finally realized. _She did not reach the Farplane, despite all my hopes. I do not know if I made the right choice. I am not so certain; after all…I only wish that I were_. He shook his head to clear it of his unwanted doubts.

At last, Auron stared at the blanket of stars over his head. By their positions, the night was half over, and he could wake Kimahri with a clear conscience. _It is a good thing that we have the Agency guards tonight, after all. I have not been keeping a very good watch_. He sat up, and found the Ronso already awake and staring at him, concern etched across his feline face. But Kimahri said nothing, so they nodded to each other, and Auron lay back down again.

End Chapter Eighteen


	19. You Have to Hurt

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The song "Hurts So Good" was written by John Mellencamp and George Green, and performed by John Mellencamp, "Song for You" was written by Leon Russell, performed by the Carpenters, and "Go Insane" was written by Lindsey Buckingham, performed by Fleetwood Mac, and I don't own them, either. The title of this chapter is from a song used in chapter 6, originally performed by Carly Simon.

* * *

Auron stared up at the stars, and wished suddenly that he could drink himself into oblivion. He knew that there was no possibility that he could keep these memories from coming back to him now, but he wished desperately that there were. He sighed heavily, and let his eye drift shut. _Very well_, he decided. _Let the memories come. They are all I have left_. 

…Zanarkand…two months ago

The dreams came more frequently as the time grew shorter. Six sennights, one month, three sennights. When they had only two sennights left, Jecht appeared to Auron in yet another dream. It was Sixthnight; they were in the city for Sennight's End.  
"I've decided. I think it ought to be near the Stadium. Has the kid got a game at the end of the month?"  
_That's in two sennights. That's too soon. Too soon_, Auron thought desperately. "I don't know, I'll have to check." He tried to keep the betraying emotion from his voice, his expression.  
"You're supposed to know. You're supposed to be keeping an eye on the kid. Or are you too busy?" Jecht almost exploded with anger.  
"He's seventeen now. He doesn't need a nursemaid, or a babysitter, anymore." Auron tried to keep his tone flat, unemotional, in the face of Jecht's outburst.  
"Lucky for you, I still think he does. Meantime, you better memorize that schedule." Jecht's mood had completely changed. He was laughing now, but it was a harsh, bullying kind of laugh.

Auron woke, cursing. Then he got out of bed to look up the Blitz schedule. He was still mostly hopeless with machina, and Mercy ended up finding the answer, the Jecht Memorial Cup, in sixteen, no, now fifteen, days. Firstnight, two sennights from tomorrow night. Their five years had been reduced to two sennights. The screen had gone black, and their eyes met in the reflection. Although she tried to stop them, tears spilled down her face. He bent, and lifted her easily in his arms, hers around his neck as he carried her back to their bed. For the rest of the night, they were able to help each other to forget what the screen had showed them, how little time they had left together. A sennight later, in another dream of the nightmare Zanarkand, Jecht again demanded the schedule from Auron. The idea of using the night of his own memorial cup appealed to his ego. The date was set.

Later still, Mercy lay awake, thinking dark thoughts in the middle of a black night. She listened to the sound of her husband's breathing, and knew that he was also awake. "Auron, when you return to Spira, will you know whether or not I have made it to your Farplane?" Her voice sounded infinitely sad and distant in the darkened room, although she was lying right beside him.  
"No, but it does not matter," he answered patiently. "You will reach the Farplane," he insisted. _You must reach the Farplane_, he urged her in his thoughts. _I just wish I could make you believe in it, but that is one argument that I lost…too many times to count_. _But it still pains me to have you parade your disbelief in front of me. Especially now_.  
She sighed. "In any case, when you get to Spira, I will be…" she stopped. _I can't say it. I know, I will be dead, but I can't say the words. Whatever happens with this Farplane thing, I…will…be…dead_. "You will be," she turned, and reached blindly for his left hand, and began to play with his wedding ring. "You will be," she repeated, "a widower." _There, I said it, more or less_. "You will be free…you might find someone else…" her voice faltered, as he took her hand in a grip that was too tight, as pain exploded in his head, and his heart.  
"No, my lady, I will not," he rasped, as he pulled her over to face him. He searched her face in the dim light. _Why are you saying these things? You should know there will never be another for me, not under any circumstances, not even these_.  
She shook her wrist until he loosened his hold. "But love, I just wouldn't want you to be so alone, not again…not if you might find comfort, at least, with someone else…after I'm gone." Her eyes filled with tears and he heard the hitch in her breathing as she tried to hold them back.  
He finally realized that it hurt her as much to make this 'offer' as it wounded him to hear it. "I will do no such thing," he stated firmly. She opened her mouth to argue with him, and he clapped his hand over it. "And before you continue this discussion any further, my lady, no, not even on the Farplane, not even if you do not reach it." He wanted to make love with her now, not fight with her, but he never wanted to have this particular argument again. This was much too painful to go through a second time. He took his hand away from her mouth, but left one finger pressed against her lips, motioning her to continued silence, but more gently now. "Mercy, please stop. I will not change my mind, or my heart. Any further argument would be a waste of time. I believe we have better things to do. Do you agree?"  
She did not answer him in words, she just closed her eyes, then took the finger he had resting on her lips into her mouth, and began to kiss and lick it so provocatively that he was on top of her almost before he had finished speaking.

The next afternoon Mercy placed a call to her brother. It was a call that Dafydd had been expecting for some time now. "Daf," she began, as soon as he answered, "We've got just the one gig this coming 'End, right?"  
"Yeah, sis, that's right. On Sixthnight. What's up?" he asked, but there was resignation in his voice, as though he already knew the answer.  
"We'd better make it a good one. I'm sorry, honey, but it's time. You and Marko need to start packing." She started crying, and she felt Auron's hands on her shoulders.  
"No, Merce, don't be sorry. I'm glad you told me when you did. These last three years gave us a chance to do all the things we dreamed of, before it was too late. Don't cry baby. I hate it when you do that." Daf paused and inhaled sharply. "Look, Mercy, are you sure you won't come with us? It would help us a lot to have you out there in the wilds with us, and you know you'd have a much better chance in the hills than in the city."  
She twisted her neck to look up at Auron, then answered her brother with resolution in her voice. "No, Daf, you know I won't go with you. You two will just have to manage without me. And please stop asking, will you? You're just making it harder on all of us. By the way, it's all going to happen on the Firstnight after our next gig, would you believe, during," her voice dripped sarcasm, "the Jecht Memorial Cup? He's planning to snatch his kid during his own memorial tournament. The man's ego still knows no bounds."  
Dafydd tried to laugh, and nearly ended up coughing instead. "I guess some things never do change. Okay, Merce, we'll be ready. We can get together later to put together a playlist, but right now, I need to talk to Marko." He was silent for a long moment, then his voice sounded shaky as he spoke again over the 'link. "Sis…we did all right, didn't we, girl?"  
"Yeah, bro, we did all right," she replied, equally shaky. "Now go talk to Marko, before we both get all weepy, 'kay? We'll talk again soon. Bye, hon."  
"Bye, Merce. Soon." He ended the call, and she leaned back into Auron's embrace, lacing her fingers with his, and holding on as hard as she could.

She took some time to pull herself together, then she checked the Blitz schedule one last time, crossing her fingers as she did so, hoping that she had remembered it right. After that, she called Tidus on her 'link.  
"Hey, Mercy, how ya doin?" he asked cheerily, as soon as he heard her voice.  
"I'm doin' just fine, honey. How about you?" she replied, keeping her voice equally bright.  
"Can't complain. What's up?"  
"Hey, Tidus, why don't you come to the club Sixthnight and catch the show?" she hoped that he didn't hear the same pleading note in her voice that she heard.  
"I don' know," he drawled, "I might have something goin' on that night."  
"Well, whatever excuse you give me, don't you dare tell me you have a game. I already checked. I know there's no game that night. So, will you come?" she asked again, hoping against hope that he would say yes.  
"Give me a minute, okay? I gotta check my schedule. See if there's a practice or something. I might have a date, you know," he spun out the words, stalling for time. _I wonder what the big deal is_, he thought. _This is the first time she's made a point of asking me to come to a show in like, forever. I mean, Mercy almost never asks me to do stuff for her, and I'd do almost anything she asked me to. This is such an easy thing. I'm not gonna turn her down, no way. She's done so much for me. She's always been there for me, and she made sure the old man was, too. He used to show up pretty damn quick whenever things went wrong. And if I screwed up, well, he'd sure be there to give me a good, swift kick if he thought I needed one. But he was never around for the good times, not before Mercy came. She doesn't need to know…how I feel about her. But if she wants me to come to the show Sixthnight, I'll come. But I don't want to make it seem too easy. After all, I have an image to maintain now_.  
After making a show of rustling through some papers, he picked up the conversation again. "Looks like I'm free Sixthnight. What time and where?" he asked, in a breezy tone. Behind his back, a small boy in a purple hooded cloak stood in a corner and smiled, then faded into the shadows and disappeared.  
Mercy made a fist so tight her nails bit into her palms, as she answered him. "We'll be at the Rialto this time. We open at eight, and Auron and Marko will probably be there ahead of you, so just look for their table. I'm looking forward to seeing you," she finished, total sincerity in her voice.  
"Me, too. I gotta run now. Practice. See you then. Bye." He ended the call abruptly, leaving her dangling emotionally at the end of the line. Not sure whether to laugh or cry, she threw her hands up in exasperation.

Now that Mercy's arrangements for Sennight's End were out of the way, they deliberately tried to put them out of their minds. They had this one last sennight to prepare themselves for a long separation, and they were both determined to make the most of it. They chose to spend their time in the city, storing up memories. As they returned to all of their favorite places for one last visit, Auron was repeatedly reminded of Braska, of the expression on Braska's face as they would leave each town or village, as though his friend were saying farewell to places he would never see again. _Now I understand_, Auron realized. _I only thought I did before, but now, I truly do understand_. He and Mercy were in the City Botanic Gardens, sitting on a bench contemplating the nearby 'Island of Perfect Happiness'. This was possibly their favorite place in the entire city, outside of their own apartment. The construction of the Gardens was such that 'Island of Perfect Happiness' could not be actually be reached, only studied from either near or far points within the Gardens. It was intended as a metaphor for life, Auron knew quite well. Perfect happiness could not be achieved, only approached. As he sat in the Gardens, and stared over the water towards 'Perfect Happiness', he looped his arm around Mercy's shoulders and drew her close against his side, content to feel her arm steal around his waist in return. _These past five years have been the closest to perfect happiness I have experienced in all my days_. He brushed a kiss on her hair. "I love you," he whispered.  
"I love you, too, Auron," she whispered back, her face turned in against his shoulder. Looking out to the island herself, she spoke softly. "I think we got as close as it's possible to get, don't you, love?"  
He slid his other arm around her, heedless of any passers by who might see them, and drew her into his arms. "Yes, my lady. I believe that we did," he replied, as he leaned his head against hers.

All too soon, Sixthnight arrived, and they met Dafydd and Marko for a farewell dinner, before the four of them went on to the Rialto. When Tidus finally slipped in to the club, just before the opening of the first set, he found Auron and Marko at a second row table, with a chair waiting for him. Neither man spoke to him, although Auron raised an eyebrow to chide him for the lateness of his arrival, as the manager came on stage immediately after he took his seat to welcome Mercy and Dafydd to the stage amidst loud applause.

Since they knew this was their last hurrah, they had decided to perform all of their own favorites. Mercy just had one song in the first set and two in the second set that she had prepared for this night; the rest were the old standbys. They opened, as they often did, with 'Anticipation', followed tonight by 'Desperado, and then went through a lot of their usual numbers for most of the first hour, including Dafydd's own 'Your Song'. But to end the set, she had written something special. She had always wanted to show Auron how much his presence in her life had meant to her music, and had never found the words to tell him properly, until now, when it was almost too late. But this seemed like the right moment. The spotlight focused in, until Mercy's head and shoulders were the only brightly lit features in the room, and then she began to sing softly, in her deep, haunting voice:

I've been so many places in my life and time  
I've sung a lot of songs, I've made some bad rhyme  
I've acted out my love in stages  
With ten thousand people watching  
But we're alone now and I'm singing this song for you.

_Auron, from the night we met, I always sang for you. You have been my friend, my lover, and my husband, and you have made all the difference in my life, even if we did do the first two parts of our relationship…slightly out of the usual order. But even knowing what lies ahead, I wouldn't change a thing that has been between us. Remember me, my love._

I love you in a place where there's no space or time  
I love you for in my life you are a friend of mine  
And when my life is over remember when we were together  
We were alone and I was singing this song for you

Then the spotlight closed slowly as she repeated the last line, and the set ended. At the break, Mercy and Dafydd came down to the table, instead of retreating to the Green Room. There was an intense emotional undercurrent amongst all the adults, but Tidus didn't quite pick up on it. But as he watched Mercy with Auron, he had the craziest idea, _when I finally do meet someone, I want…what they have_.

Mercy was trying to keep it together until the show was over. _No, until after Tidus leaves_, she thought to herself. _I can't let go until then_. The second set opened with 'Fire Down Below', 'Slow Hand', and 'All I Want is You'. They sang their hearts out, and each song was a gift to the audience. Both she and Daf knew they were nearing the end of their long run, and that it had been a very good one. Dafydd struck up the chords to her first big sale, 'Hurts So Good'. Tidus didn't know any of the history behind the song; he only heard the lyrics, the words telling the story of someone older, in love with someone younger than they were. As Tidus heard Mercy sing, he thought she was singing about herself and Auron, as she often did, since she was ten years older, but as she sang,

You don´t have to be so excitin´  
just tryin´ to give myself a little bit of fun, yeah  
You always look so invitin´  
you ain´t as green as you are young…

she looked straight at him, Tidus, and winked, and his brain froze solid, then his thoughts started flying like crazy as he blushed scarlet to the roots of his hair. _Does that mean…? She doesn't know, does she? She couldn't. She can't. It's my secret. I never did anything. I never said anything. How could she know…I have a crush on her. Then why did she wink at me like that, just then?_ He looked up at her through his lashes, and saw that, just this one time, she was looking at him as she sang. _She knows_, he decided. _I wonder how long she's known. Oh shit, I wonder if that means the old man knows, too. No way I'm going to look at him to find out. Besides, he probably does know. I know she tells him everything. Can the floor please just swallow me now?_ Tidus closed his eyes in miserable embarrassment, too wrapped up in his own thoughts to hear the end of the song.

Mercy watched the boy, saw his face turn to flame. _I'm sorry, Tidus. I'm so sorry, honey. I don't know if this was the right thing to do, or not. I hope that, knowing that I know… makes it easier for you, later. I just hope you know someday…that I tried my best. Maybe you'll remember this next message, eventually_.

The machina began the next song, in a minor key. It was a strange, sad song, she'd written specially for this one night. The first verse was for Tidus, telling him to let go, hoping that he would find someone some day:

Two kinds of people in this world  
Winners... losers  
I lost my power in this world  
Cause I did not use it  
So I go insane  
Like I always do  
And I call your name  
She's a lot like you

Tidus heard the words, but they didn't really register. He wouldn't remember them until much, much later.

Her second verse was for Auron:

Two kinds of trouble in this world  
Living... dying  
I lost my power in this world  
And the rumors are flying  
So I go insane  
Like I always do  
And I call your name  
She's a lot like you

One last time, she offered him his freedom. She watched him as she sang, and he understood her message. He shook his head, and mouthed the word, "No," over and over again. She bowed her head in acknowledgement of his answer. She would not ask again.

Dafydd did one last solo performance of 'Moondance', to give Mercy a chance to pull herself together, then they closed, as they always did, with 'Seven Wonders'. But when the performance was over, only Dafydd, Auron and Marko heard that she said "Goodbye" to the audience, instead of her usual "Goodnight". The concert was over.

They all went to the Green Room, but Tidus wanted to get away as fast as possible. He was embarrassed down to his toes, and he just wanted to leave. As soon as the five of them were all alone, he took Mercy aside. "Look, I have an early practice in the morning, I have to get some sleep. 'kay?"  
"Sure. Goodnight, Tidus," Mercy said.  
"'Night, Everyone," Tidus replied in relief.

She let him almost get to the door. "Wait." Tidus stopped, waited for Mercy to reach him. She looked up into his eyes. She had been just slightly taller than he five years ago, now he was quite a bit taller. _I can't bear it. I have to do… something_. She hugged him, tight as she could. He was stunned into immobility for several seconds, then he hugged her back, just as fiercely. Her face was buried in his shoulder. He heard her muffled voice whisper, "Love you." And all he could do was whisper, "Love you too," as his face turned bright red again. She let him go, and he fled in complete confusion, almost slamming the door behind him. Mercy slowly dropped to the floor, like a puppet whose strings had been cut, her face in her hands, weeping. _Tidus, I didn't know saying goodbye to you would hurt so damn much. When we met, I wasn't sure we would even like each other. Now, I do not think I could not love you more if you were…my own son. And I'm so sorry I'll never get to tell you that. So sorry that I'll never get to see you again. I hope someday Auron tells you. I hope someday, somewhere, you understand_. She wrapped her arms around herself, and tried to summon up some self-control. She finally looked up from the floor, to find Auron and Dafydd each offering a hand to help her up, concern etched on their faces. Her right hand slid easily into her brother's slim, long-fingered left hand, the calluses from his guitar playing as familiar to her as if they were her own. Her left hand reached just as automatically for the grip of her husband's strong, sword-scarred right hand, and she let them help her rise. There were still more goodbyes to be said this night, and quickly. Daf and Marko needed to get on the road.

Auron remembered Braska's words from the beginning of their pilgrimage, "Too many goodbyes, people think twice about leaving," and wondered how long this was going to take. Mercy looked to be near the breaking point, but he had learned that she was always stronger than she appeared.

Mercy wasn't planning to take long. _Everything that needed to be said, has already been said_, she thought. Dafydd asked her, for the last time, "Are you sure you won't come with us?"

Tears were streaming down her face, and her brother's, but she shook her head. "You already know the answer. And you promised me you wouldn't do this again." Her voice broke, and she had to stop for a second or two. "Now let's get this show on the road. You two need to get a move on." _Please honey; don't make this any harder than it already is. I have to stay, and you have to go. Pretty soon, before I have a nervous breakdown again right here. I need to stay here with Auron and you need to get out of here, and be safe. So I can try to die in peace and maybe do this Farplane thing that Auron believes in so much_.

Marko dashed tears from his face, and Auron realized that he was blinking rapidly, trying to hold his own emotions in check. _Braska was right. There have already been too many goodbyes, and we are all thinking twice about leaving_.

Then Mercy hugged Marko in farewell, as Dafydd and Auron shook hands. They said almost the exact same things to each other, as she asked Marko to "Take care of my brother," and Dafydd ordered Auron to "Take care of her." The answers were so very different. Marko promised Mercy, "I will," with a clear conscience. But Auron could only respond, "As long as I can," with infinite sadness. Then it was time for Mercy, and Dafydd, to condense more than half a lifetime of shared joy, dreams, heartache and intense love into one last embrace. One last, "I love you." And let each other go.

She never remembered how Auron managed to get her home. He just did it. She emerged from a complete mental fog to find herself sitting on the couch, in their living room, drinking hot, sweet tea and recovering from what felt like it must have been shock, even though she had known for five years that what had happened was more or less what was going to happen. She looked out the windows at the night sky, and tried to get some control over the crushing grief she felt, before it knocked her out again. _Dafydd and Marko are already gone_, she remembered. _I won't see Tidus again_, her mind continued, as she stared blindly out the windows. She heard a noise, and swiveled her head to see what had caused it. Auron stood next to the door, where he had just deposited the last of the gear he would need to take with him when he left. He had strapped an extra sword to the outside of his pack, and the blade had clattered when he leaned the pack against the wall. _In two nights, he will be gone. He will pick all of that stuff up, put it all on, as he leaves. He will meet Tidus, and he will return to Spira. And I will die. I think I can accept that now. I hope I can, for his sake, when the time comes_.

Her eyes met his. "That sword's not quite your style," she said lightly, trying to show him with the tone of her voice that she was okay, or at least as okay as could be expected.  
He forced himself to reply in an equally bantering tone. "You know me well. It's for the boy. A gift from Jecht," he added warily, wondering if the last remark would send her mood plunging downward again.  
With effort, she kept the darkness away, and determined that she would concentrate on his presence here, now. "Then it's a good thing he refused to take lessons, after all. When you tell him it's from his father, he may try to use it on you." She tried a small, tentative smile.  
His return smile was just as tentative. "You may well be right."  
She set her mug down on the table, and stood to face him, uncertain of what to say. Uncertain if there was anything else that could possibly be said at this point. She felt a tear slide down her cheek, as she began walking towards him, her arms reaching up to slide around his neck, as his long legs ate up the distance between them in the big room.

Over the last five years, they had managed to make love on most of the horizontal surfaces in their apartment, and up against not a few of the vertical ones as well. In the past sennight, they had repeated nearly all of their better ideas, as an expression of their frenzied need to try to claw their way inside each other's skins, before they had to let each other go, possibly forever. In the wake of all the other partings, the last and final one was too close now. Love and desire were caught up with the need to comfort and be comforted in turn, and the desperate attempt to keep the onrushing grief at bay for a few more hours. They gave up on acrobatics and mostly stayed in bed. But for the brief time remaining, they couldn't bear to be out of each other's sight, or if possible, out of range of each other's touch, except for the barest amount of time necessary to take care of personal needs. Neither of them ever had any distinct memories of those last two days and nights. They weren't trying to make conscious memories of each other, or for each other. It was sensory memory that they were each trying to give each other, imprinting the sight, sound, feel and taste of each other. She wanted to be sure that she would live in his mind, his heart, while he was in Spira. That all he would have to do was close his eyes and think of her, to remember how much she loved him. She wanted him to carry her love with him, always. And he wanted to be sure that she would know, with absolute certainty, that he loved her so much that she must reach out to find the Farplane, even though she did not believe in it herself.

She tried to sleep as little as possible, to spend as much time with him as she could, just in case the 'Farplane trick' didn't work, but sometimes, she had to. He would lie beside her, watching her sleep, wishing, sometimes even praying, that there was some way he could take her with him. It was Firstday afternoon, and she'd been sleeping for about an hour. The clock showed that he had something over two hours left before he had to leave.

Auron stared into his wife's sleeping face. She was lying on her side, facing him, her head pillowed on her arm, dark circles under her eyes, showing that she had been sleeping little the past two nights, as he well knew. He started to reach out, to touch her, but he knew she would wake the moment he did so, and he wanted to look at her, peacefully sleeping, just for a few more minutes.  
_She is so beautiful_, he thought. _I love her so much. If this is what Braska had with his Jenni, I understand now why he chose the summoner's path. My heart will break when I leave here. I will do what I must, because I have given my word. Then I will go to the Farplane, and hope that Yojimbo spoke the truth. But…she is my soul_. He gently drew back the sheet that covered her. His gaze swept over her naked body, and he grew instantly aroused. _My lady, even in sleep, you are the most seductive woman I have ever known_, he saluted her in his mind, as he brushed butterfly kisses over her closed eyelids, her cheeks, and her lips. Her eyes opened dreamily, as she woke to the familiar, much loved, and much desired sensations of his lips nibbling at her earlobe, his large hand gently kneading her bottom, his hard shaft pressed against her belly. She slid her arm from under her own head, and then around his neck and down his back, feeling the powerful muscles move under his skin they pulled each other closer. Fully awake now, her eyes were wide open and locked on his, as their lips met and fused together in desperate intensity. She arched her back, driving the hard peaks of her nipples into his chest. By turns they were greedy for each other, demanding in their desires, and then tender and sweet, alternately pushing each other to the brink of release, and then falling back, spinning out this one, last time, until they were both burning up with need, and then he was on top of her, inside her, joined with her and thrusting deep as her legs were wrapped around his waist and his hands were laced with hers as they stared into each other's open eyes as the overwhelming, intense, shared sweetness rocked through their bodies, and their souls, one last time. They drifted back to reality slowly, but by then it was time for him to take a shower, and their time was done.

As he headed for the bathing room, she bounced off the bed and went with him, saying, "Let me scrub your back," as she thought, _I'll just pretend it's another hiking trip. That will buy me…another twenty minutes or so. Besides, in the shower, no one can tell if I'm crying…maybe not even me_. But at one point, as he felt her hands rubbing the soapy cloth over his back, his own emotions gave way. He pulled her arms around him and he turned and held her tightly, letting the shower cascade over them both while their eyes remained closed under the water. He said nothing, but she could hear his heart pounding erratically under her ear, and when he tilted her head up to kiss her, his lips tasted of salt.  
They left the bathing room and he began to dress in his Spiran clothes. After a moment's indecision, Mercy decided to maintain the pretense of a hiking trip to the very end, and started putting on her blacks. _I refuse to meet death bare-assed naked_, she decided, as she thrust her swords through her belt. _I guess I've got too much pride. I love him so much. I will let him go and sit here and wait for death, but on my terms_. _I want him to remember me like this, with some kind of dignity, and not a sniveling wreck… I hope_. She turned and looked into his face.  
He fastened the back of his collar to his armor, leaving it hanging over the back of his coat. He would fasten the front later, when he left. Then he turned to look at his wife. _She is so fierce, so proud, and so determined. And I love her so much. I have no wish to leave her here. But I must. If I could not keep my word to them, how could she trust that I would keep my word to her? Please be waiting for me on the Farplane, my lady. I would be lost without you_. He saw through the window over her shoulder that it was nearly dark outside. The knowledge that he had to leave in the next few minutes shadowed his face.

They caught each other in a fierce embrace, but his armor already formed a barrier between them. She looked up, one hand caressing his cheek, her other hand on the nape of his neck, as his arms kept her close. "My lady, I love you." He tried to smile, but it was crooked, and his voice cracked.  
"I love you, too, Auron." _So much it feels like my heart is breaking_.  
"But…Mercy…I have to go." His words fell like lead.  
"I know, love, I know." She was trying hard not to start sniffling.  
"It is time. Or I do not know if I will be able to manage. I am…sorry, my lady." _I do not know if I can manage now. In a few more minutes, it will be impossible_.

"I understand." She almost couldn't speak past the lump in her throat. She didn't want his last memory of her to be of her tears, but she didn't think she could hold on much longer, either. She whispered, "Go."

"Farewell," he replied hoarsely, then he practically dragged himself from the room to the front door. He faced away from her as he fastened the front of his collar, clipped the bracer on his left arm, pulled the glove on his right hand, hefted his sword to his shoulder, and looped the pack through his arm. She watched from where he had left her, standing by their bed. With his dark glasses in his hand, he cast her one, last agonized glance, then he turned, and was gone.

She ran to the window, and stared down into the street below. From twenty stories up, she wasn't sure if she saw him stride through the crowd a few minutes later or not, but she wanted to think that she did. Then she stared out into the night, and she saw the tsunami racing toward the city. It seemed to be closing in on her building, even as she watched, firing projectiles as it advanced. She knew it would kill her, and she believed that she had accepted that. _But is my knowledge, my acceptance, enough_? Aloud, she cried, "I wish there was another way." Behind her, in the darkened room, she heard the sound of fingers snapping.

On the streets of Zanarkand, Auron headed for the Stadium. As he walked, he looked down, trying to gauge where he was putting his feet. His eye caught the flash of his wedding ring. He stopped in his tracks as the emotional overload crashed through him. Someone walking behind him rammed into him, apologized, then went around, as he remained rooted in place. He spotted a bench, and dropped heavily onto the seat, nearly doubled over in agony. _Five years ago, I was worried that I had nothing to offer her. Now, I have to go on without her. Ten years ago, I thought there could be no greater pain than what I felt at Braska's death, and Jecht's fate. I am a fool… twice over…at least._ _Maybe more. Much, much more._ He started to get up, to turn back, but knew that he could not; he had to go on to the Stadium, to be there to take the boy to Spira. He fell back onto the bench. _Hell. The boy will ask too many questions. This will be difficult enough without talking about it_. _I never want to talk about it. About her. Not to anyone. That pain would be too much to bear_. He stared again at his wedding ring. _I gave her my word that I would wear it, always_. After a moment's hesitation, he ripped the fastenings of the glove on his right hand, nearly tearing the glove in his haste. He twisted the ring from his left hand and jammed it on to his right, refastening the glove to conceal it. He buried his face in his hands for a long moment. Finally he stood, and resumed his rapid-paced journey through the city.

At the top of a concrete and metal pier overlooking the ocean, he raised his tokkuri in a salute to the oncoming tidal wave. "Hello, old friend", he whispered to Jecht. Then he went to meet the man's son, to take him home.

…Spira…Calm Lands

Yuna was troubled, so she woke again in the night, and sat up in her bedroll, intending to think about how to proceed with the pilgrimage. As before, she looked at her sleeping companions, all close around her due to the lack of space within the confines of the Agency. Again, as she looked over her sleeping friends, she heard Sir Auron talking in his sleep. "Mercy, mercy," he repeated, but this time, as he searched with his right hand, she could see his hand clearly, as the ring caught the Agency lights. So did the tears on his cheeks. He rose up suddenly, burying his face in his hands. Yuna lay down quickly and turned away, hoping he would not be aware that she had seen his distress. Behind her closed eyelids, her mind pieced the puzzle together.  
Auron lay back down, praying that no one had seen him except the watchful Kimahri. The Ronso had kept his other secrets; Auron expected he would keep this one as well.

End Chapter Nineteen.


	20. Rumours and Dreams

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The title of this chapter is from the title of a CD and a song on that CD by Fleetwood Mac. The song Dreams was written by Steve Nicks. Part of the lyrics go as follows: "Have you any dreams you'd like to sell? Dreams of loneliness, like a heartbeat, drives you mad, in the stillness of remembering what you had, and what you lost."

* * *

Auron woke too early, well before the others. The Agency had promised hot bathing facilities, and, more importantly, hot water for shaving, as part of the use of their campground for the night. He grabbed his kit and set off in search of them. The hot bath eased his aching muscles, and the hot shave was a luxury he had not expected to see again this side of the Farplane. Bare to the waist, he picked up his razor and stared at his face in the mirror. _I look like hell_, he decided. Too many nights without sleep had left him with a bloodshot eye, and heavy dark circles under both. Pain, and grief, had gouged lines beside his mouth, in his forehead. _The boy is right; I do look like an old man_.

He leaned over, gripped the sides of the sink for support, his head sunk between his arms. _More than that, I feel like an old man_. He closed his eye and let grief wash over him. Behind his eyelids, he saw a thousand images of the woman he loved, smiling, laughing, sleeping, arguing, fighting, concentrating, distracted, confused, sad, tense, happy. He heard her voice echo in his mind, singing, whispering, calling his name in the throes of passion, and just simply talking. _She always talked so much more than I; I miss the sound of her voice_. He stared intently into the mirror again. Just for a second, he thought he saw her, in the steam. She was there in the bathing room with him, a towel secured above her breasts, in that mysterious way that women somehow managed. The top of her head barely cleared his shoulder. She was brushing her short, wet hair into place, as she always did as soon as she left the shower, because she claimed that otherwise it would dry into a spiked mop. Her gaze met his in the mirror, and she looked at him with such love in her eyes, and such a mischievous smile, it was as if she was planning to grab a towel from his waist and run away with it. He blinked to clear the sudden moisture from his eye, and the vision was gone. There was a pain in his chest, as though his heart was breaking.

He splashed his face with the now-tepid water. _This is getting me nowhere_, he thought bitterly. _How can I go on if I keep looking back? _He started to shave. "Damn it all to hell," he cursed, as he nicked his chin. By the time he finished shaving, and cleaned up the mess he'd made of himself, the others were eating the breakfast that Rikku had purchased. He raised an eyebrow but said nothing. It had been her turn to prepare breakfast. The pain in his chest seemed to have spread to his belly. He wasn't hungry, so he went to make some inquiries of the storekeeper. Yuna watched his retreating back. She was worried about her oldest guardian, and about what she had seen the night before. He seemed troubled, or unwell. She decided that it was time to see if Tidus could shed some light into this particular darkness.

When Auron returned from the Agency shop, he told the party, "We need to head northwest from here." The comment was about as straightforward as he ever got, but it just made no sense. It was greeted with universal puzzlement, but only Kimahri spoke in response. "Sacred Mountain northeast. Why go northwest?"  
"Lady Yuna must visit Remiem Temple before we leave the Calm Lands. She was invited."  
Yuna tilted her head to one side, trying to remember. Then it came to her. "Lady Belgemine," she cried.  
"Yes," Auron said gravely, "Belgemine. She trains summoners at Remiem. According to the shopkeeper, the entrance to the valley is now only accessible by chocobo. The chocobo rental agent is currently northwest of here." He paused. "Braska dueled with Belgemine several times on his pilgrimage. I believe he found it…worthwhile."  
"Then I must accept her invitation. We will go northwest, and rent chocobos," Yuna said with an air of happiness. She was so astounded that Sir Auron had offered such a relatively clear piece of advice; she would have done practically anything he recommended. It was that rare an occurrence. And, she could talk with Tidus while they hiked to get the chocobos.

The stroll through the tall grass of the Calm Lands would have been pleasant, except for the fiends. The attacks were frequent enough to keep them all on their guard. Yuna walked with Tidus, suddenly reluctant to raise the question she had formed in her mind during the night. She and Tidus had shared a great deal about their lives as they journeyed, she had told him all about growing up in Besaid, with Lulu and Wakka. She had told him about her father, too, but shied away from too many stories about the days of his pilgrimage, about Sir Auron, and Sir Jecht. It was clear he didn't want to hear about his own father, or anything connected with him. In turn, Tidus had talked about his Zanarkand, making the city live again, just for her. She thought that there had been a person in the shadows, sometimes, when he reminisced. At first, she had been worried that he had a girlfriend back in Zanarkand, and hadn't wanted to tell her, but the stories seemed to go too far back in time for that. Now she wondered if this mystery person, and the person that Sir Auron reached for in the night, were one and the same. There was only one way to find out, she was certain of that.

She scanned the trail ahead. Kimahri was leading, and Wakka was just behind him. She glanced back, pretending to be checking the distance to the Agency, trying not to meet anyone's eyes. Lulu and Rikku were carrying on a desultory conversation behind them, but not close enough to hear anything she and Tidus might say, as long as they kept their voices low. Sir Auron was guarding the rear of the party, continuously checking to the right and left of their trail, and probably listening behind as well. She and Tidus were as alone as they might ever be. If she truly wanted to ask, it needed to be soon. It was difficult to talk while chocobo riding. She twisted her hands in front of her in a moment of indecision, then she reached for his hand, and took it in her own.

"Who was Mercy?" Yuna asked softly.  
He gulped in astonishment, but answered her question anyway. "Mercy was Auron's lady… in Zanarkand. His wife." Tidus choked out. "How did you guess?"  
"Sir Auron talks in his sleep. I heard him, last night," she said simply. "How did he meet her? I imagine she was very pretty. What was she like? Did he love her…very much? What happened to her?" She asked all her questions in a rush, before she lost her nerve.  
"Whoa, whoa!" he cried out, waving his hands excitedly. "Lemme answer one question at a time, okay?"  
"Okay," Yuna replied diffidently. "How did Sir Auron meet…Mercy? Was that really her name?"  
Tidus laughed softly. "Yeah, it was. I think she told me once her full name was Mercianne, or something like that, but I never heard anyone call her that. Everyone just called her Mercy. She used to sing in coffeehouses, and clubs and stuff, with her brother. He played guitar. That's how she met Auron. She was singing, and he heard her from the street, and he went in to find out what it was all about, I guess."  
"She…sang?" Yuna asked quizzically.  
"Oh yeah," Tidus responded enthusiastically. "She had the most fantastic voice."  
"She must have been very beautiful," Yuna stated.  
He groaned. _What the hell am I supposed to say? If I disagree, I'm in trouble because she'll know I'm lying, and I'm a really bad liar. But if I agree, I'm probably in worse trouble_. _What if Yuna gets jealous or something?_ Then he got a flash of insight, and he knew exactly what to say. "Auron sure thought so," he said, with just a touch of sarcasm. _Now there was an answer that was totally and absolutely true_.

"What did she look like?" Yuna's curiosity continued unabated.  
Tidus looked down at her, walking beside him, and tried to think of a way to describe Mercy to her without getting into too much detail. Just then he heard Lulu's voice float to him on the breeze, and a mental picture formed in his head of the three women, and thought that would probably be close enough…he hoped. "Mercy had really dark hair, like Lulu's, but with some gray in it, but nowhere near as much as Auron's has. But really, really short. She hated to fuss with it, so she just kept it short. She had…brown eyes. She was a little taller than you are, but shorter than Lulu is. I guess, she was just…sort of…between you and Lulu…kind of…everywhere…I guess." His voice trailed off in embarrassment, then it picked up again quickly, as he remembered something else. "Oh yeah, she was really quick, the way Rikku is. She was a swordfighter."  
"She was a what?" Yuna sputtered. She had been trying to puzzle out exactly what Tidus had meant by his comment about Mercy being between Lulu and herself 'everywhere' when he made that last remark and Yuna's stopped wondering when Tidus had compared her to Lulu and went back to trying to form a mental picture of this mysterious Mercy woman.  
"She used a long sword and a short sword together. I heard Auron say she was very good. They used to teach martial arts classes together, mostly unarmed stuff, though. I used to meet them at his dojo sometimes, and I would watch them practice against each other through the windows. They were awesome!" he said, and he grinned as remembered.

"What was she like?" Yuna asked him quietly.  
The answer hit him all at once, and he felt like he'd been sucker-punched. He could have sworn he heard Mercy's voice just then, singing that one song from that last night in Zanarkand, "She's a lot like you," because he knew it was the truth. Mercy was a lot like Yuna…or the other way around. He was just too stunned to know which. Yuna was strong, just the way Mercy was. _Was this what Mercy meant? Was this what she wanted me to find? I wish I could ask her_.  
He took a deep breath, trying to find the words to tell Yuna, something that would hopefully answer most of her questions and would make some kind of sense. "I was seven when Auron first came to Zanarkand," Tidus began, speaking hesitantly, still trying to gather his thoughts together. "He was like he is now, pretty much. Walled off from everything…and everybody. A real hard case. I think I hated him at first."  
"Why would you…hate…Sir Auron?" she asked in shock.  
"He said he was a friend of my old man's," Tidus replied, acid in his voice, as though that explained everything. Then, he added softly, "He made my mom cry, when he told us my old man wouldn't be coming back, not ever. That my old man had washed up someplace, and had tried to get back to us, but hadn't made it. That my old man, and Auron, and another guy had all started out from this other place together, but only Auron had made it the whole way, and he couldn't go back alone." Tidus broke off and met her eyes. "I just figured it out. He was talking about your dad's pilgrimage."  
"Yes," she replied. "He was trying to tell the truth, as much as he was able to."

"I guess it doesn't matter, now. Anyway, he asked my mom if he could come around some times, to keep an eye on us. Said he thought that was what my old man would have wanted. She said it was fine with her, so he started coming around, I think every fortnight or so at first. When my mom got sick," he stopped, and swallowed hard past the lump in his throat, "he started coming around more often, I think every time he got a day off. At first I really resented him being around, but after a while, I was kinda glad he was there. We didn't talk much or anything, but at least, I knew he would be there every Lastday, and help me with her. Even if I didn't exactly…like Auron, I knew I could trust him, you know what I mean?" His eyes and his voice were pleading with her, begging her to understand.  
"Sir Auron is not an easy person to like, or even to get along with sometimes," Yuna began hesitantly, "but there is something that makes you feel like you can always trust him, no matter what."

"That's it exactly. I knew that I could trust him. That he wasn't faking anything with me. He said he'd watch over me, and that's what he did. When my mom…died…my aunt and uncle showed up, and tried to just grab me and take me away from him, and I remember that I wouldn't let him go until they told him where they lived and promised that he could come and visit me, just like he did when I lived with my mom. I didn't trust my uncle. He was slime. I knew he just wanted to get his hands on my money, well, my old man's money, really, by keeping me. My uncle hated Auron, 'cause as long as Auron kept coming around it meant that my uncle couldn't hurt me or bully me or do anything too nasty to me."  
"Tidus, that's a terrible thing to say," she cried, thinking about her own uncle Cid.  
"It's the truth. I lived with them until I turned sixteen, and I heard them talking about me all the time, and I heard what he used to say about Auron, and about what he'd do to me if Auron weren't around. But Auron came around every chance he had. He'd take me out, and we'd mostly just walk around the city. Sometimes he'd take me to a game. Not that he was interested, but he knew that I was. I'd talk, and he would try to listen. Until this one time, when I was twelve…" his voice trailed off, and he saw it all again.

"What happened then?" Yuna's voice broke into his thoughts.  
He smiled at the memory. "I opened my door, because I heard Auron's voice outside, and I saw the old man standing there…holding hands with this pretty lady, and I almost lost it right there. Never in a million years would I have expected to see him like that. He was even smiling. I mean, really smiling, not just that kind of smirk he gets on his face sometimes now. But that day…it took me forever to figure out that I could see that he was smiling because he wasn't wearing that damn collar of his. I found out later from Mercy that they'd known each other less than ten days by then, but being with her had already changed him that much. It was pretty amazing to watch."  
"Watch what?" Yuna asked in puzzlement.  
"Watch the old man's hard case crack wide open," Tidus answered with a laugh. "I didn't know it then, but that's what I saw. I just knew that he was different, and that it was because she was there."

"What was it like, then?" Yuna's soft voice released a flood of disjointed thoughts and memories, and he just let them spill out of his mouth without even thinking about what he was saying.  
In a faraway voice, he began, "I suppose I should have resented her, but I never did. Not even at the very beginning. She fascinated me, partly because she was just such a neat person herself, and partly because she just changed him so much, so fast. And mostly because…I fell for her just as hard as he did," he finally admitted, blushing furiously. _There…I finally said it. I hope Yuna doesn't mind. That part's over now, anyway_. He looked down to see Yuna smiling up at him, breathed a sigh of relief, and went on talking.  
"I couldn't figure out why she bothered with him. It seemed like they wouldn't have anything in common, but they did. I remember trying to tell her that he was always gloomy, and him laughing at me while I said it; because just being with her made him laugh. Something about being with her…made him relax, or something. It's hard to believe, now, but he was actually happy." His voice wound down. "I've just been going on and on. I guess I hadn't realized…how much I needed to talk about all this."

"Why haven't you talked about it with Sir Auron?" Yuna asked, surprised.  
"Are you kidding?" Tidus exclaimed. "I've tried. I've tried over and over. Every time we were on watch together, every inn, every chance I got. He either turned me down flat, got pissed off and told me to mind my own business, or just stalked off. He just won't talk about her, not at all. He even hid his wedding ring, stuck it on under his glove on his right hand, so no one would see it and ask questions."  
Tidus was silently shaking his head. "And I'm still not used to seeing him and not seeing her next to him. She's supposed to be there. Right there. They couldn't be in the same room without touching. They always held hands, or brushed against each other, or something…but they always touched. It was kind of embarrassing, but I got used to it. Now, it just seems wrong that she's not there."

Yuna remembered seeing Sir Auron's distress the last two nights. "She was always on his right side, wasn't she?"  
"Yeah," he answered quietly, looking down at his own right hand, clasping hers. "Like this," he continued as he switched their hands from a simple clasp to the more intimate twining he'd seen Auron do so many times with Mercy.  
"Oh, my," Yuna breathed unevenly, feeling the warmth of the additional contact between them slide along her skin. She had to drag her mind back to the conversation they were having. "What else?" she asked, hoping the vagueness of the question would prompt some kind of relevant response.  
"Well," Tidus replied, equally vague, at first. "Mercy sure wouldn't let him treat her the way he treats us. She never let him dominate her, no way. I don't know if he ever tried it when I wasn't around, but I know it wouldn't have worked. She was his equal, his partner. She would never have settled for anything less."

He looked down at her intently. "You asked me what she was like. She was very, very strong." _Just like you_, he thought. "She said what she meant, and she meant what she said. And she wasn't afraid to stand up to anyone, not even Auron. Especially not Auron. And she had a really hot temper, and by the way, so does he."  
"Sir Auron?" That just did not fit with the image she had of her 'Legendary Guardian'. He was always so calm, and so controlled.  
"Hell, yeah. They used to argue all the time. It was one of the reasons they didn't go into business together full time. He wanted to, but she always claimed they'd kill each other. Literally. If they got really mad at each other, they'd go over to his dojo and work it out on the mats. She said they never went to sleep angry…sometimes late, and sometimes bruised, but never angry." He smiled as he recalled Mercy's giving him that advice long ago, that when he had something to settle with someone, to do it before going to sleep, no matter how much it might hurt, that the sleeping would be easier.

"How long," she started, "How long were they married?"  
"They were married for three years, but that's not what's really important. I think they were together almost from the minute they met…at least, that's the way it seemed. Of course I didn't know Mercy before, but I don't think he was looking for anyone before, and after they met, neither of them even noticed anyone else…ever again. They were just like that." His voice took on a sad and very serious tone. "I used to be so jealous. I never thought I'd find anything like that. And now, it's just so sad. You know, I really miss him, almost as much as I miss her."

"But, Sir Auron is here with us," Yuna said in surprise.  
"I know. I guess what I'm saying is…is that I miss the way he used to be." Tidus stared into the distance, then he began again. "He's not the same since we've been here. He's not the same…without her. Now, he's just, kind of, going through the motions of being alive, I guess. I think…I think she took his pain away. Now that she's gone, I think he hurts even more than he did before, inside. It's like he's lost part of himself, maybe the best part. Or maybe he's just lost without her." He paused. "I'm not sure I'm making any sense," he finished lamely.

"No, you are making sense. You've, well, you've explained quite a lot of things that I've been wondering about." Finally she asked, "What happened to her?"  
Tidus stared at the ground as his face was filled with pain. "I don't know for sure, but she must have been killed when Sin attacked Zanarkand. When we were at the Farplane, Auron asked me to look for her. It practically tore him apart when I told him she wasn't there. Yuna, I never, ever, want to see that expression on anyone's face again." Tidus had to stop speaking, to work past the ache in his throat. "Auron was expecting her to be there. But she was alive two nights before Sin came. I know she was. I saw her." He remembered that night, the music, the scene in the Green Room, afterwards. "Yuna, he knew, they all knew, Auron, Mercy, her brother, all of them. I know they did. She said goodbye to me without me realizing it, but she knew. They both knew all along." His voice was rising, enough so that Lulu and Rikku heard his distress, if not initially his words. They increased their pace, began to catch up with the young couple. They were close enough to hear his last anguished words. "He knew Sin was coming, he knew it. They both did. Auron was waiting for me outside the Stadium. I swear he was. He loved her so much. Why didn't he bring her, too? Why, didn't he, Yuna? Why didn't he?"

His grip on her hand was like a vise. His other hand formed a fist. His face was screwed up tight with the effort not to cry, as Lulu and Rikku reached them.  
"What's the matter?" Rikku asked; her whole body practically twisted in concern at his distress.  
Lulu spoke at almost the same instant. "Who are you talking about?" she inquired, in that cool voice of hers.

Tidus couldn't take any more. He knew he couldn't go through it all again without crying. In a hoarse whisper, he said, "Yuna, will you tell them, please?" She nodded, and let go of his hand. He hurried ahead to join Wakka, who wouldn't want to talk about anything more gut wrenching than the latest Blitzball scores.

The three young women watched Tidus stalk away, his hands bunched into fists at his sides. As soon as they were certain he was beyond the range of their voices, Lulu and Rikku turned to Yuna expectantly. "What are you supposed to tell us?" Lulu asked calmly.  
"I think I need a minute to understand exactly what it is I am supposed to tell you," Yuna sighed.  
"Come on, Yunie, spill the beans," Rikku exclaimed.  
"All right," Yuna replied, looking fondly at her cousin. "You know that, after my father's pilgrimage, Sir Auron went to Zanarkand, and that that is where he was while he was…away?"  
"Yes, I know that is what Tidus has said, and that Sir Auron has not denied it," Lulu answered, as Rikku nodded enthusiastically in agreement.

Yuna swallowed. It was clear to her that Lulu was still not one hundred percent certain about Tidus' Zanarkand, and Sir Auron's normal reticence was not helping matters. She continued, "While Sir Auron was in Zanarkand, five years ago, he…met a woman," her voice dropped almost to a whisper, "and fell in love with her…and they were married." Surer now, she raised her voice. "He wears his wedding ring on his right hand now, under his glove. His wife's name was Mercy. That's what he's saying when he talks in his sleep. His wife's name. Tidus thinks she was killed in Sin's attack on the city, the attack that brought him here. She was alive and well two nights before Sin came, Tidus is certain because he saw her." Yuna paused, then continued in a gentle voice, "Tidus said that they loved each other very much."

Rikku's voice was filled with stunned disbelief. "You have got to be kidding. That," she pointed her thumb over her shoulder, "big meanie back there actually fell in love?" Yuna nodded. Rikku kept going, she was on a roll, and she wasn't going to stop now. "Even if I believed that he got that stick out of his ass long enough to let a little tender emotion," her voice dripped sarcasm, "get inside that hard shell of his, I can't believe that any woman in her right mind would put up with that unfeeling old grump for five minutes, let alone marry him."  
"It's funny," Yuna answered, "Tidus called Sir Auron a 'hard case' too. He said that he watched Mercy crack Sir Auron's 'hard case' open. I believe it truly did happen."  
Lulu commented, "And if he truly loved her, it might explain why he's so grumpy, now that she's gone."  
"Yeah, maybe, but I still don't see why anyone would ever fall for him in the first place. I mean, seriously, he is such a pain in the butt," Rikku shot back cheekily.

Lulu was doing some serious thinking. Rikku might not understand why a woman would be interested in Sir Auron, but she certainly did. _So he has also lost someone he loved to Sin. It is something that we have in common. Perhaps…_Lulu wasn't ready to finish the thought. Yet.

End Chapter Twenty


	21. Night Moves

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The title of this chapter is from a song written and performed by Bob Seger, particularly in reference to the lyrics at the end, "Ain't it funny how the night moves, when you just don't seem to have as much to lose?"

* * *

When they found the chocobo rental agent in the Calm Lands, she was reluctant to part with any chocobos, as she was in the process of replenishing her stock, and the ones she had were about half-trained, at best. It took some convincing, and not just with words, before they could have the mounts they needed to reach the hidden temple. Tidus found training the big birds to be a lot of fun, so when they reached the lost temple and found the challenge race outside, he was eager to test himself against this supposed 'champion chocobo'. Auron only let him try the race once before he herded them all inside the temple. Tidus beat the champion, but the prize was very strange. It was a cloudy looking mirror. He wasn't sure if it was good for anything, but he had won it fairly, so he planned on keeping it, just like he kept all his Blitzball trophies. They weren't actually good for anything either, but he still hung onto them. _Until the old man dragged me to Spira, anyway_. 

Inside the temple, Belgemine related a little of the history of her home, Remiem Temple. They were all surprised to learn that she was an unsent, like Seymour, and Maester Mika. But Belgemine's purpose was to help Yuna, not to hinder or harm her or her friends. She wished to train her, as she had trained other summoners before her, by challenging her to an aeon duel. That was the purpose that had bound her to Spira. Any summoner who could not defeat Belgemine was not ready to take on Sin. Yuna battled Belgemine's aeons with her own, defeated each of them in its turn, and was rewarded for her efforts. After the last of the duels, Yuna had the distinct impression that Belgemine might not be through with her, not yet, but had no idea what that might mean. The party left the echoing temple. Yuna's training there was complete, for now.

Tidus had watched the duels with interest, but a part of his mind had been thinking about the chocobo race he had won. There were six chests on that racetrack. He had only been able to get three on his first attempt. He thought he could get them all, if he just had one more chance…

The minute they were outside the temple, Tidus said, "'Scuse me," sprinted for the challenger's chocobo, and mounted it before anyone had a chance to say anything. Most of the group smiled indulgently, then leaned over the rail to watch the race. Auron just groaned at the waste of time. Tidus reached the finish line in record time, having opened all the chests. He raised his arms over his head in triumph, a cheeky grin splitting his face. The reward didn't matter to him; it was the challenge that he savored. His prize was a parchment map, covered in completely illegible script. He thought at first that it was just some language from Spira that he couldn't read. But when he showed it to the others, he discovered that no one could read it. He still put it into his pack, but as he placed it on top of the strange mirror, the mirror reacted, it sort of, well, hummed. He got the mirror and the parchment out of his pack and held them together. The mirror hummed louder, but nothing else happened. He wondered what it all meant, as he wrapped the mirror in some of his clothes, so his backpack wouldn't hum the whole time he was carrying it. _Weird, really weird_, he decided.

As they traveled down the eastern edge of the Calm Lands by chocobo, they found a break in the rock wall. When they entered the narrow canyon, they discovered an old man, bemoaning his inability to open his prized combat arena, due to a lack of fiends for training purposes. Both Tidus and Wakka were all for helping the old guy out, but Auron stopped them, condemning the whole enterprise as, "A waste of time." If Auron heard Tidus mutter something like, "Killjoy," under his breath in Wakka's direction, or saw Wakka nod in reply, he made no sign.

They made camp near the exit to the Calm Lands, and Lulu found herself looking into the fire and contemplating…the future. It was clear to her that, unlike the two summoners she had guarded before, nothing would prevent Yuna from completing her pilgrimage. _She has grown too strong to be stopped now_, Lulu thought, _unless she herself dies along the trail. And Sir Auron is too stern a taskmaster to allow her guardians to fail so in their duties_. Lulu smiled enigmatically as she peered up through the curtain of her hair, and found both Sir Auron and Wakka sitting directly across the campfire from her, caught up in a heated discussion. Or rather, she realized as she watched the two men, it was clear that Wakka was doing most of the talking and all of the gesturing, while Sir Auron was kneeling stoically in place, his right arm over his upraised knee, and that Wakka's impassioned pleas were having little or no effect, to judge by the expression on his face, except perhaps to try his patience. She studied them in the firelight. Seeing them so close together, made it easy for her to compare the two men. Physically, they were much the same type. Both were big men, with powerful arms, broad shoulders and chests, but somewhat narrower through the waist and hips, with hard, flat stomachs and strong, heavily muscled thighs and calves. She found herself wishing for a cool breeze, as she tried to consider the two carefully, based on more than just their looks, however pleasing those might be. She forced herself to consider Wakka first, since she had known him all of her life, but it took conscious effort to tear her eyes away from Sir Auron, he had so much more…presence…that she found it difficult draw her attention away from him.

As she turned her concentration to the Blitzball captain, she instantly thought, _Wakka is Chappu's brother_, the thought coming to her as automatically as her next breath. _But Chappu is dead, and Wakka and I are both still alive._ _But if Chappu had lived, by now, I would be Wakka's sister_. A sarcastic voice inside her head retorted, _if you believe that Wakka now feels towards you as a brother would feel, there is undoubtedly someone who will offer you a marvelous deal on a bridge over the Moonflow._ She sighed. _That is as may be_, she reasoned, _but what do I feel? It is only on this journey that Wakka has begun to emerge from Chappu's shadow…in my heart_. Her eyes flicked upward for a moment, and she sighed. _And possibly, only to fall under another's shadow. But I was trying to think about the future…my future. This party is so large, Yuna has brought so many guardians, that some of us will surely return to tell the tale. Wakka and I might both find ourselves living in Besaid again, when all this is over. Do I want us to be…more than we are now? I do not know. He is very dear to me, in his own way, even if his lack of…imagination…common sense…something…does make my head hurt at times. But if I try for more, I could lose him altogether. I do not believe I could face him…across that village square in Besaid, if we were intimate, and then…we were not. Or if I made a fool of myself by saying that I was interested in him as more than a friend, and he drew back from me in shame, or horror, or even worse, pity. Our friendship would never recover. And I do not think Wakka would respond to any subtle signals. The only ways I could be sure of gaining his attention would be telling him outright, with its potential for embarrassment and future awkwardness, attempting to seduce him, which would be even worse on both counts, or hitting him in the head with one of his own blitzballs, which might only serve to addle him further! Perhaps it would be best to save this whole idea for another evening. Yes, perhaps that would be best_.

She gazed into the fire again, and caught snatches of the discussion that Wakka and Sir Auron were continuing on the other side of the flames. Wakka was still arguing that they should have agreed to assist the man who wanted to re-stock the old arena, that catching all the fiends in the Calm Lands would have been good training, and that it would have been, "The right thing to do," to help the old guy out. Sir Auron's side of the argument was typically laconic as far as Lulu could tell, consisting entirely of negative comments, mostly the single word, "No," but occasionally two words, "No time," or "Not necessary," and once she even heard him utter three words together, "Not our concern." Her eyes met his for a moment, and they exchanged a look, shared amusement at Wakka's continued thick-headedness. The unspoken communion warmed her more than it would have a few days previously, before Yuna had related the information about Sir Auron's lost wife.

_Yevon, but he is handsome_, Lulu thought. _Not the classic features I saw in those spheres, that scar took care of that. But I find him even more appealing now; the scar makes him appear darker, and more dangerous, than he did ten years ago. Most women who meet him now must want to either embrace that danger, or hope they can light the darkness they see in his heart. Which do I want? There is already enough darkness in my own heart_. Her thoughts paused a moment. _Those spheres…ten years ago, he was filled with fire. Does he still burn? Is all that passion buried behind those stonewalls that he has erected around himself? I thought it was impossible for any woman to find out, but one apparently did. She breached those walls, and found the man inside. What was she like, his wife? I keep thinking of the phrase, 'sweetness and light, goodness and mercy', as though all those virtues must reside together. A woman who survived five years as Sir Auron's mate could not have truly embodied all those virtues…or possibly any. How did she manage to get inside his defenses? Can it be done again? Am I interested enough to make the attempt?_ While she had been thinking, Wakka had finally given up his argument as a lost cause, and had left to talk with Tidus, probably to ask him to make one last try to convince the older guardian. Auron stood up to stretch his legs, and Lulu studied his form for a long, pleasurable moment. _Perhaps I am interested enough_, she decided, then she hesitated. _But I wish to think on this a bit longer. If Wakka does have feelings for me, pursuing Sir Auron could also cause problems. I think that this idea may also be best left alone…for now._

The evening following the battle with Lady Ginnem found Lulu feeling increasingly restless, so she prowled the confines of the plateau outside the Cavern of the Lost Fayth. Her thoughts were disturbed, even more agitated than her feet, as she recalled the day's events. _I performed my last duty to my first summoner. My failure as a guardian is finally redeemed. I thought I would feel sadder, somehow. Wakka said I have grown stronger. I wonder if it is not because I have grown colder, instead. Am I stronger, or am I just becoming cold and dead inside? That…is what I fear. Tonight, I want to feel. I want to feel warm…and alive. I do not want to worry about…consequences. The morning always comes. I would like to let it…take care of itself, for once_. She noticed Wakka sitting by the fire, watching her with concern. _Dear Wakka, he would try to understand, but it would take me half the night to explain things to him, and there would definitely be…consequences_. She stared up into the stars, and as she let her head fall, she saw Auron standing, alone and apart, on the opposite side of the plateau from where she paced, at the head of the narrow trail that skirted the edge of the gorge. _Sir Auron is as alone as I, and, maybe, as in need of company, or comfort, as well. Perhaps, tonight, we can help each other to feel alive again. If there is any irony in that, so be it_.

Auron merely wanted to be as far away from Yojimbo's cave as possible. He felt betrayed by this fayth, by his cryptic, and ultimately empty, promises. He knew that Yuna needed all the aeons in order to be considered worthy to receive the final one, but he wished that she could have let this one pass, if it were possible. The masked swordsman's words from five years ago ran through his mind, over and over, and he could not manage to escape them. He wasn't sure if he was a bigger fool then, or now. The fayth had been right about one thing. It had been sweet, indeed…very, very sweet. _But who had neglected to play their part? Who?_

She was coming. "Sir Auron, may I speak with you a moment?" Lulu asked him, arching her brow up into her hair. He silently gestured an invitation for her to go on "In private," she continued coolly.  
He inclined his head to her, and they began to move down the narrow path, to the next place where they could comfortably stand together to talk.

He spied a rusty sword partially hidden in a niche between two stone pillars. Auron rested his own blade against the side of one of the pillars and idly reached for the hilt and began to pull the blade from the shadows that concealed it. As he drew it out, he discovered that it was the equal of one of his own katanas in length, and shrugged out of his coat to more easily take the blade's hilt in a two-handed grip, and hold the blade up in front of him. _This must have been a fine weapon in its day_, he mused. _Its balance still seems true. I wonder how long it has been out here like this?_  
_Men_, Lulu thought, as she hissed out a breath in exasperation. _They are so easily distracted_. She tamped down her temper and called his name softly "Sir Auron," then, just, "Auron," drawing his attention immediately.  
He turned to face her, suddenly alert, with his attention sharply focused on her, his eye narrowed at her over the rim of his glasses. _What is this about? I do not care what they call me. The title is empty, and I know it, if they do not. But it must mean something that she has decided to get more 'personal'…something that she felt would require privacy to discuss…bloody hell_, he fumed, as he came to an abrupt, and unwelcome, conclusion.  
His back was to the pillars. She stepped forward, crowding into his space, so that the air was filled with her musky scent, so close that her skirts almost wrapped around his legs, her hands resting on his chest. Her voice was low and intimate, as she breathed; "We have both lost someone…very dear to us, because of Sin."  
Auron's iron control slipped for just a moment. The word burst out before he could stop it. "How…?"  
"Did I know? You talk in your sleep, sometimes. You must miss her very much," she went on, hoping for a response, but she saw that his eye was closed, and that his whole face was shuttered as if it were a mask.  
Inside, his thoughts raced around, chasing each other through the dark recesses of his mind. _Yes,_ _I miss her. I wish the boy had kept his damn mouth shut. I miss her so much. I know he misses her, too. But I miss her so damn much…that it hurts_.  
Lulu searched his closed face, and saw agony momentarily cross his features. _He is in so much pain…as am I. Maybe we can help each other…for a little while_. "I believe that we could…comfort each other," she whispered.  
His eye opened wide, staring straight ahead, in shock at the echoing memory of Mercy using those same words…" not if you might find comfort, at least, with someone else." He looked down at Lulu, intending to tell her to leave, to push her away, but his gaze was drawn down, and down into the creamy expanse of Lulu's over-ample and overexposed breasts. Memory superimposed over the present, Mercy standing in front of him, just this close, the deep vee of one of her performance tunics affording him a similar view, except that Mercy's charms weren't quite so overblown, and she had learned the value of leaving something to the imagination. His reaction was the same, past and present, instant, aching desire, but now overlaid with dark despair, and gnawing grief. His hands locked on her upper arms, and his breathing turned ragged. He tried to hang on to some kind of discipline, some shred of self-control. _I do not need comfort. I desire oblivion. I desperately want a few minutes to pretend that Mercy is here, with me, now. That is the temptation. But I know I must not let her go on for another second…_  
She misread his reaction. She saw him staring at her breasts, and felt her own body's response, her nipples peaked inside her gown, poking into the fabric, begging to be touched. His grip on her arms, the hot rasp of his breath, excited her further. She saw his control fraying, and wanted it to break. Since he seemed to react more to physical sensations than words, she brought her hand up to touch his cheek. Automatically, his eye closed in response to the caress. He couldn't seem to stop himself. She took it as encouragement and leaned nearer still, slipping her right hand behind his neck as her left pulled his collar down. She pressed her lips to his, and his control shattered.

He grasped her and turned them, so that her back was against the pillar, pinned against by his weight. He took her mouth with bruising intensity, his tongue thrusting inside, as his hands roamed over her body, until he grabbed her ass in both hands and rocked his hips against hers. He kept his eye firmly closed, and tried desperately to deceive himself, to pretend that it was his wife he held in his arms, and not someone else, but everything about this woman was just…wrong, and he couldn't go on, no matter how much his body was clamoring for release. He suddenly put his hands back on Lulu's upper arms and pushed himself away from her, holding her at arm's length, staring at her face, and only her face, as his mask dropped back into place.  
Lulu stared back at him, eyes glassy for several moments, breasts heaving, as she tried to compose herself and figure out what had just happened. _I expected him to be strong, but I expected him to be gentle, too. Instead, he was rough, and I…am not even sure that I enjoyed it. But I am certain that he must have, if he had been any harder, he could have cut diamonds with it. But now, the way he is staring at me, I feel like a cheap whore. What went wrong?_ "Auron?" she finally just said his name again, softly, all her questions in the tone of her voice.  
"This was wrong," he stated flatly.  
"But you wanted it as much as I did," she protested weakly.  
"Only because I tried to pretend that you were someone else. My wife. You resemble her…a little…somewhat…I should not have…this should not have happened," he stopped, then regained control over his words. "Enough," the single word sliced through the air like one of his swords.  
"But, Auron…" she started to argue, her hand outstretched to touch him.  
He backed away a step. "No. Do not touch me again." He was desperate now to keep his anger in check. The amount of self-disgust, and self-loathing he felt made bile rise into his throat. He wanted to retch. He needed to get the taste of her out of his mouth before he truly did lose control of his stomach. Without thinking, he raised his jug to his lips, took in a mouthful of liquor, rinsed out his mouth and spat into the ground behind him. The gesture was not calculated, but if he had known the effect it would have, he might have done it sooner.  
_You sanctimonious son of a shoopuf,_ Lulu steamed. Anger filled her, and she raised her hand and slapped him hard across the face. The resounding crack of the blow helped to salve her wounded pride, at least a little. While the sound was still echoing off the cavern walls, she hissed, "You bastard." She was incoherent with rage. He stood and waited patiently for her to get her temper back under control. After the way he had just treated her, a slap was the least he deserved, and he knew it.

It took several seconds for her rage to die down, long seconds that passed while she stared at any spot she could see, except the guardian watching her warily. "This incident is not to be discussed," she stated, in a tone that clearly allowed for no debate. He nodded in agreement. He fervently wished that he could forget that this 'incident' had ever happened, he certainly had no intention of discussing it with anyone. "I'll be returning to camp now," she finished imperiously.  
"Please do," he replied in a slightly mocking tone. "I will guard your passage from here."  
_Let's make sure this never happens again_, he considered, as she took the first few steps back to camp. Her pace was slow and her posture seemed despondent as she moved away from him. While she was still well within hearing range, he took another pull from the tokkuri, and spat it out again, aiming for the rocks so she would be sure to hear and appreciate the waste of the good liquor. Predictably, she turned on him, her eyes flashing in anger. "Thunder," she shouted, and a flash split the night, striking the pillar beside him. He jumped. "You will regret this," she cried, before she turned on her heel and resumed her journey back to camp, her pace now a hip-swinging strut.  
_I already do regret it_, he mused. _But not in the way you meant, Lulu. I regret this incident ever happened. I regret that I ever gave in to temptation, even for an instant. I regret that you will resent or hate me, because I saw you in a moment of weakness. I only hope this does not cause difficulties for Yuna's pilgrimage. But you yourself did not tempt me, not at all. And you deserve better than that, and I hope someday you find it again. Look to Wakka, girl, for that, not to me. But… pretending you were Mercy…that was my great temptation. But I gave her my word, and I will keep it_.  
As he watched her retreat, he felt suddenly, and unaccountably, light-hearted, as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders, or as though he had passed a great trial. He saw the smoke still rising from the top of the pillar Lulu had struck with her Thunder spell, and he began to chuckle softly to himself. _There is a resemblance between them, but all the details were…off. That is why the pretense fell apart so quickly; I could not lie to myself that well. But I think that if I had told Lulu that I wasn't interested because her ass was too big, she would have used a Thundaga spell, and aimed for my heart,_ he let out a short bark of rueful laughter, _or my balls_.

The night was still and quiet now, and he let the peace of it cleanse his soul for a few minutes. Then, the silence was marred by the sound of a slight "thud" behind him, at the opposite end of the path from the campsite. Cautiously, he followed the path to its end, his katana over his shoulder. Where the path dead-ended there was a chest, dust still settling around it. _This is unusual_, he decided, as he carefully opened it. Inside, there was a crest, similar to ones they had already found. The runes incised in the metal named it 'Minerva'. He stowed the crest in his pack, and retrieved the rusty sword on his way back to the camp.

On the other side of Mt. Gagazet, a dark figure tumbled down, at the water's edge, into the ruins of Zanarkand.

End Chapter Twenty-One


	22. One More Night

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The title of this chapter is from a song performed by Phil Collins.

* * *

Ten days after Elder Kelk Ronso had granted the party safe passage over the Sacred Mountain, they had for once, managed to reach one of the rare Ronso settlements at the right time to stop for the night. For once, they would be able to sleep between four walls, maybe even in real beds, certainly not on permanently frozen ground, and eat hot food that someone else had cooked. And, they wouldn't need to post a guard. Everyone would be able to get some much-needed rest. _The lift to all our spirits is probably more beneficial than the night's sleep will be_, Yuna thought to herself, as she bestowed one of her beatific smiles upon the Ronso villagers.

The travelers' rest mostly served as the local pub, it was really the only way that the owner could make a go of it. He only had three rooms upstairs that he rented to any summoner's parties that happened to stop in the village. The publican was startled to see such a large party, but he still did as he always had, assigning the Summoner to a separate room, leaving the rest of the group to sort themselves out and inform him of whatever arrangements they might have made later. Auron remembered this place from his pilgrimage with Braska; there was only one bed in each room. They made their sleeping arrangements accordingly. Lulu and Rikku would share one room, he, Tidus, Wakka and Kimahri would nominally share the other, but he was certain that Kimahri would spend the night guarding Yuna's door. _So be it_. Auron asked the innkeeper for sleeping furs to be placed on the floor of the room he was sharing with the two young blitzers for himself. He had had entirely too many sleepless nights to observe all of his fellow guardians. Both of the young men kicked viciously in their sleep. _Let them kick each other black and blue, I hope to get at least some sleep_.

The group met in the inn's Common Room for dinner. The stew was excellent, possibly even more so since none of them had been compelled to catch it, cook it, or clean up after it. Yuna said she was tired, so, after one speaking glance at Tidus, she excused herself from the table and retreated to her room immediately after dinner. Kimahri followed her without a word. He seemed uncomfortable in the company of so many of his own people, after so long away.

The remaining party members continued to keep up a desultory conversation, as Tidus' gaze kept wandering to the door of the Common Room, and then back to the table. He seemed to be making up his mind about something. Lulu kept watching him, waiting to pounce if he tried to leave before the rest of the group. She believed that she understood the direction of his thoughts all too well, and was clearly determined to prevent him from carrying out his 'intentions'.

_I need a distraction_, Tidus thought. He looked across the table at Auron, and saw that the older guardian's dark glasses had slipped down his nose. _Good, I'll know when I've got him_. Then he stood up and turned his chair around, so that the back of the chair was against the edge of the table, then sat back down again, straddling the chair, with his chin on his crossed arms. He made plenty of noise in the process, drawing the older man's attention. Their eyes met. Tidus rolled his eyes to the ceiling, then slid his eyes across the table, in Lulu's direction, and finally, raised his eyebrows quizzically, all in a few seconds. Auron blinked in astonishment. For the first time, he saw, not a boy looking back at him, but instead, another man. In this case, a man who wanted him to keep Lulu distracted while he went upstairs to attempt to convince Kimahri to let him into Yuna's room. _Very well. I will deal with the mage. You are on your own with the Ronso_, he thought. Auron nodded, imperceptible to all except the young man.

Tidus asked the older guardian a question about the road ahead. "Auron, you've been here before, what can we expect on the rest of the mountain trail?"  
_Very good_, Auron decided, impressed in spite of himself, _her curiosity is her abiding weakness_. No one expected him to answer. He almost never answered straightforward questions about the road. _Or anything else_. But he had tacitly agreed to make an exception in this case, so he began, "The next two or three days will be much the same as the rest of the mountain, then we will reach the caverns…"  
As soon as Lulu's eyes were focused on Auron, Tidus slipped from the room, and headed up the stairs, two at a time.  
When he reached Yuna's door, Kimahri barred his passage. Tidus spoke to the Ronso, "Kimahri, I think Yuna wants to see me." He tried to sound confident, but he still blushed.  
"Kimahri think so, too," the Ronso replied. He stood aside, to let Tidus knock on Yuna's door. _If Yuna want him, Yuna let him in, if not, Yuna send him away. Kimahri not need to protect Yuna from her guardians_.  
"Yuna, it's me. Can I come in?" he asked shyly.  
"Yes, please," she said, joy clearly in her voice. He heard the sound of her quick footsteps, as she flung open the door. A warm smile lit up her face. He stepped quickly inside, and she shut the door behind him. And bolted it. Kimahri grinned his feral grin, the one with all his teeth showing.

Downstairs, Lulu realized that Tidus' chair had been empty for far too long for his absence to merely be related to a 'call of nature'. She rose from her own seat, and set sail for the stairs herself, at a somewhat statelier pace than Tidus had used earlier.  
Rikku took in the entire situation in a single glance, then cast Auron a beseeching look. _Why is this my problem?_ he thought ruefully. Still, he pushed his chair back, and pursued the black mage, his longer legs eating up the short distance, reaching the foot of the stairs just before she did. He used his greater height and bulk to loom over her, blocking her way to the upper floor of the small inn. Then he waited, in silence, for her to explain herself. He was certain it would not take long.  
"Please let me pass. I need to go upstairs."  
He did not even bother to respond. He continued to wait, letting the silence between them stretch out until she felt compelled to break it.  
"Tidus went upstairs some time ago." Then she continued, adding more than a hint of mockery, "I believe he intended to 'keep Yuna company'." Coldly, she went on, "I don't believe that it would be proper for the situation to go on any longer than it already has."  
Auron finally spoke to her. His tone was quiet, but even colder than hers had been, and slightly menacing. "Who are you to say what is or is not proper?" he reminded her.  
"I only want to do what is best for Yuna," Lulu replied, her temper rising.  
"That is Yuna's privilege, to decide what is best for herself."  
"But it will only make things more difficult for her later."  
"Perhaps. But that is also her choice," Auron replied gravely. He held Lulu's eyes, until she bowed her head in acknowledgement of his words, and Yuna's right to make her own decisions, at least for this one night. He motioned to the mage with his arm, and she turned back to the Common Room.

As they resumed their seats, Wakka asked Auron another question about the Gagazet caverns, as though they had never left the table, but Rikku's expression showed that she was clearly relieved to see them both return to the table unscathed. A few minutes later, as she and Lulu passed Auron on their way upstairs, the young Al Bhed was chattering something about "trying to braid my hair like yours when it's a little longer", as though she hadn't a thought in her head. But he felt a tentative touch on his back as Rikku passed, as though the girl were trying to say, "Thanks."

As soon as Lulu was out of earshot, Wakka finally managed to ask Auron, "Is Tidus with…?" not even bothering to finish the question.  
_He certainly has developed some survival skills_, Auron thought acidly, as he answered, "Yes." _This is going to be a long night._  
"Sir Auron, do you think that's such a good idea?" Wakka seemed honestly concerned about Yuna.  
"I think," Auron answered with some sarcasm, "that it is none of our concern. I am going up to get some rest. I suggest you do the same. Good night."  
"If you say so," Wakka replied, still in considerable doubt.

Tidus woke Auron before dawn, as he quietly opened the door to their room. When he saw the older man sitting up in the furs, Tidus knelt beside him on the floor. "Thanks for covering for me last night," he whispered.  
"You're welcome. But don't ask again. It is time for you to fight your own battles," Auron growled in reply.  
"I know, Auron. But Yuna's the one Mercy sang about, in that last concert. She's a lot like her. Strong, you know?" The young man paused, and tried to read Auron's expression in the semi-darkness. "I miss her so much, sometimes," he added, with a catch in his voice.  
Auron turned away, so Tidus had no chance to see his face. _I miss her, too_. _I miss her too much_. "Auron…" Tidus called softly, but the older man kept his face resolutely turned toward the wall.

But Tidus decided that since he had already started, he might as well keep going. It seemed easier this way, when he couldn't see Auron's face. "Mercy knew, didn't she? About all this, I mean. Sin, Spira, everything. You told her what was going to happen."  
"Yes," Auron choked out. It was all he could manage to say.  
"Why didn't you tell me, too?" The hurt in his voice was clearly audible to the older man.

Auron still couldn't face him, as he whispered, in a hoarse, croaking voice, "She wished it, but I thought it would be too much for you to understand. She disagreed. We argued about it. Frequently. But Mercy saw it as my decision, even though she never agreed with me." _She never stopped arguing with me about it either, not until almost the end_, Auron remembered with regret. _I should have listened to her. I should not have wasted time 'discussing' it_.

Tidus wanted desperately to ask why Auron hadn't brought Mercy with them, but Wakka unfortunately chose that moment to utter a sleepy "Whassup?" and begin to get out of bed. It was nearly dawn and bitterly cold. Tidus could almost hear Auron's mask slip back into place.

End Chapter Twenty-Two


	23. The Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The title of this chapter is from a song performed by Carly Simon.

* * *

The evening after they passed what they all feared was just the first of Yunalesca's tests, the gruesome Sanctuary Keeper, the party stopped for a hot meal around a driftwood fire at the edge of the ruins of Zanarkand. As depressing as he found the sight of the blasted shell of the city, Tidus thought that he would rather remain on this side of the ruins for as long as possible, he figured that anything was better than rushing to reach Yunalesca. So, as they all sat around the campfire, the young man did everything he could think of to keep everyone talking, reminiscing, he even used Auron's trick of trying to get everyone to tell their 'stories', anything, anything to postpone the inevitable meeting with the Lady who waited for them in the dome. 

Some distance along the path, off to one side, a pile of debris shifted. Under the rubble, a dark figure turned in restless dreams. The voices from the party drifted on the breeze, and slipped into the dreamer's mind. The voices were elusive, as the light winds shifted over the ground, but one voice, a young man's light tenor, was both familiar and often repeated, and the sleeper awakened. Still and quiet, the figure remained concealed, listening intently for the sounds to recur for more conscious consideration. This patience was rewarded with several vocal tones, two male, the tenor and an accented baritone, barely audible, and also a female soprano, but none were the voice most eagerly sought. With efficient movements, a meager camp was packed, and the traveler hoisted a pack between slim shoulders, then set off in the direction from which the voices had originated at a steady walk. Anticipation drove the pace faster; as the voices seemed to gain in volume with every few steps the traveler took. Finally, after the air brought a burst of laughter from the group far ahead, the traveler heard a deep, rough voice intone, "That is enough." The listener came first to a shuddering halt, and then began to run.

At the campfire, Tidus said "Hey! There was more, right? I mean, like that time...uh... Anyone?"  
Yuna responded, "I think we should stop...maybe. For now."  
Tidus stood, walked behind Yuna, and dropped his hand on her shoulder for a moment in a brief caress, then he trudged slowly up the hill behind the party. First he looked out to sea, into what had been the Zanarkand harbor, then he turned, to look toward the dome, and saw the dark figure running toward them along the broken road. _What the…?_ His mind started jumping. _Who would be out here? And running towards us like a bat out of hell?_ And then it hit him. It was the only thing that made any crazy kind of sense. _Who else could be out here? Washed up here maybe? Just like I was washed up at that old temple? Just like the old man was washed up north of Luca?_ Joy seized him and he half ran, half slid down the hill, yelling for Auron at the top of his lungs as he pointed toward the rushing figure.

They all turned in the direction that Tidus indicated, Rikku even hopping up and down in an attempt to see over the crumbled buildings. But with the advantage of height, Auron could see the dark runner barreling towards the group without any such undignified effort on his part. As soon as he spotted the figure, he knew he should think it was a fiend, or some especially cruel torment of Yunalesca's. Instead, he reached for his glasses with suddenly unsteady fingers, telling himself sternly that this must surely be an illusion. And it was an illusion…the same illusion that stopped his heart, just as she always did. For those first few, tortured seconds, he saw her, as he had seemed to so many times before, with both eyes, rushing towards him, and he was certain. His glasses dropped from his hand and skidded along the ground, skittering to a halt near Rikku's feet. The others were all talking excitedly around him, speculating wildly, and he didn't hear a single word. He started striding forward, towards the distant figure, as he tore at the clasps that held his collar in place. One unfastened easily, the other, he broke off in irritation and as he threw it aside, he, too, began to run.

The broken pavement made a treacherous surface for any kind of running, let alone this sort of reckless dash, that she kept her eyes focused on the road, until she heard the thud, thud of heavy boots coming towards her. Then she risked a glance upwards, and saw his tall, red-coated figure moving to meet her, and joy filled her heart, and she tried to ignore the burning in her leg muscles, and find some reserves from somewhere, and put on just a little more speed. The distance between them closed, until she was finally close enough that she could see his face clearly in the twilight, glasses and collar gone, his determination to reach her, the dark shadow on his jaw that showed he hadn't shaved for more than a couple of days…and her right calf cramped, and she had to pull up short in pain, grabbing at her leg. _So much for a storybook ending_, she cursed, as she massaged her aching muscles.

He saw her stop running, and his heart almost stopped with her, afraid that she had changed her mind and was about to turn away from him, until he saw the way she seized at the back of her leg, and he realized what must have happened. His heart began to beat unsteadily again. He slowed his pace to a ground-eating walk, and studied her, as his mind and heart continued to race ahead. _Please_, he begged, as he devoured her with his gaze, _do not let this be another dream. Let this be real, or let me wake now. I do not know how many more times I can bear to lose her again_. But he continued striding towards her, unable to turn away from the chance that this time, she might be real, or he might not wake up. He was beginning not to care which.

She raised her head, and saw that he was so near; she might as well let the cramp ease up for later, and waited for him where she was. As she watched him close the remaining few yards, she stripped off her pack, and pulled her swords from her belt and stuck them inside its top. Her heart turned over, as she searched his face, thinking, _I love you so much, Auron. And, I went through so much to get here. I hope this is what you want, too. I hope I did the right thing, because now, we're both stuck with it. Hurry up, will you? Now that you're almost here, I can't wait anymore!_

He finally stood before her, as she straightened, and they stared into each other's eyes, unable to look away, and for a long moment, completely unable to move, to reach through those last few inches, the arm's length between them, as though a glass wall had been raised in the middle of the blasted landscape. They were both afraid that if they tried to touch, the other would suddenly disappear into the twilight. Then his hands shot out, and cupped her shoulders beneath his hands, and she could feel the nicks and calluses on his palms catch at her clothing, and the heaviness of his grip as his hands settled on her body, and he pulled her roughly against his chest, his whole body suddenly folded around hers, as she flung her arms around his neck, and they stood holding each other, in the middle of the ruins of the city where they had loved, and rocked each other gently in the evening breeze.

He lifted his cheek from her hair and she looked up into his face, and found it more troubled than happy. His hand brushed the hair off her face, caressed her cheek, then he rubbed his thumb across her lips. He still hadn't kissed her yet, and she didn't understand why. _What is wrong_, she wondered. She desperately needed to know. He saw the concern register on her face, and immediately sought to allay it, by asking the question that was uppermost in his mind. "Are you a dream?" he asked her.

The expression on her face switched from concern to exasperation. "Auron, you're the one who told me I was a dream, five years ago. So you tell me. I'm here now, whatever that means. Make up your mind."

Her spurt of anger began to tip the balance in his mind. In his dreams, she had always been soothing, never angry. It had been so unlike the real Mercy. He leaned over to touch his forehead to hers, a gesture so familiar, she automatically met him halfway. "No, my lady," he smiled slightly now as he spoke, "I apologize for not speaking more clearly. I was referring to my own dreams. I have…dreamed of you…often…especially these last three sennights. I dreamt of this moment, or one like it. That you were alive, somewhere…that we met again. Or," his face flushed hot, and his voice dropped to a rasp, "or I dreamed that you were in my bed." He swallowed thickly. "I do not know which were worse."

She touched his cheek. _Three days since he's shaved, at least_, she decided. _Love, I know I'm real. It's been at least that long since I've had a bath, and that was with my swords in the water with me. I know I reek, and it's a good thing I love you, because you do, too_. _And I don't care, and I don't think you do, either. But dreams don't sweat, love. Now how do I prove it to you?_ She stroked her hand down his face again, and then her eyes lit with mischief. Her hand tightened, and her face tilted slightly, as her lips closed around his chin, and she nipped it with her teeth, hard. He yelped and pulled his head away, rubbing his face with his hand. "Ouch, that hurt," he accused, in some confusion. It only stung slightly, but it had been a complete surprise.

"It was supposed to," she replied, smiling mysteriously. "But I can kiss it and make it better, if you want," she continued, teasing.  
"Mercy, why would I…" he started to say, then he broke into a broad smile. His fingers probed his chin. He could still feel the marks of her teeth. "My lady?" he growled softly, still smiling down at her.  
"Yes, love?" she grinned up at him.

"I believe I will pay you back for that, later, instead," he finished, as he teased her smiling mouth with a kiss on each upturned corner. Then her smiling lips parted for him, and his mouth fitted itself to hers, and they both needed to touch and taste each other, everywhere, at once. Each kiss led to another, longer, hotter, deeper. His glove, he had to get rid of it, he needed to touch her with his bare hands, both his hands, he hated the time he had to waste to use his left hand to unbuckle it, but at least it was gone, fallen to the ground. She pulled his coat down to his waist after that, it didn't matter, he didn't care, her hands on his arms, on his neck, his face, that was what mattered. They would kiss until they had to come up for air, and then they would say "I love you" over and over, with each breath, like a blessing, like a prayer, as they continued to touch and caress and kiss whatever they could reach. He was taller, his arms were longer and she didn't wear armor, so he had an unfair advantage. He could touch her everywhere, at least through her clothes, but her options on him were more limited. He knew she had a sensitive spot, just where her neck met her shoulder, and he kept coming back to it, kissing, and licking and sucking it, and her head would fall back, making it easy for him to know exactly when he'd found the right place, until she couldn't stand it anymore that she was the only one going crazy here, and she'd straighten up and get her hands underneath his coat and scrape her nails along his buttocks and drive him mad until he'd slash his mouth over hers, grinding his hips against hers by holding onto her bottom with both hands. He worked his hand inside her bra, cradling her breast, and she arched her back, trying to get closer. They'd both lost their minds, and neither of them seemed to care. In the back of his mind, he knew there was a reason they shouldn't go any further, shouldn't have gone this far, but he couldn't even get close to thinking of what it was, not right now.

She'd given up completely on thinking anything at all. All she could do was feel. She hadn't felt anything in so long; except in dreams, and this, this was a feast of sensation. Somewhere inside, she knew they were being completely insane, but she just couldn't make it seem to matter. Everything he was doing, everything they were doing, just felt so good, she wasn't sure why they should stop. His lips were fused to hers, and it felt so good. He tasted so good, especially when she sucked his tongue into her mouth. She heard, or maybe felt him groan. Her left shoulder was bare now, and his hand traced down to her breast, and he rubbed his palm over the hard peak of her nipple. She moaned into his mouth. She felt her back arch automatically, as she tried to press more of her breast into his hand. She wanted more, more everything. His other hand was at the small of her back, keeping her hips pressed tight to his. She writhed against him seductively, and his hand slid lower. Her hand was on the outside of his thigh, trailing up his leg. He sucked in his breath, as she insinuated her hand between their bodies. Her fingers teased over his shaft for a few intense seconds, as his hand tightened on her breast, then she reached her goal, and started unbuckling his belt from the bottom. He began to attack it from the top. They broke off kissing to concentrate on getting his belt undone; clearly both of them had the same ultimate goal in mind.

But enough blood managed to find its way back to his brain that he finally remembered the reason that they should not be indulging themselves in the open in the middle of the Zanarkand ruins, and he caught her hands in his, before they had managed to completely unbuckle his belt. She stared up at him in hazy confusion. "Love, what's the matter? What's wrong?"

He stared down at their joined hands, his face stained almost as dark as his coat. His voice was still husky as he began to choke out, "The Summoner's party…I arrived here with…is at the edge of the ruins." He swallowed, and regained some control over his words. "I believe that they are distant enough…" his gaze rose to her bare shoulder, the slope of her breast, and he nearly choked again, "that they could not actually see…" he didn't feel the need to finish his sentence, his meaning was clear enough.

She wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry for a few seconds, at his furiously blushing face, or the missed opportunity. Instead, she smiled at him warmly, and extracted her hands from his, and straightened her shirt and bra. As he tightened his belt again, his eye followed her movements, so she took her time, making him remember everything they had just done, everything they had ever done, making sure he regretted waiting as much as she did. She heard the hitch in his breath as her hands smoothed her tunic down over her breasts, and pulled the shirttails to make sure it was taut. _It's not the sex. Okay, it's not just the sex. We've never been apart this long. Three days, once, right after we met, and that was like a living hell. It's been four months. I want to re-connect with him, fast, and that's the deepest and surest way I know. And the most…fun. But I guess we'll have to wait_. She sighed, met his staring gaze, and held out her arms intending to hug him before she pulled on her backpack.

But he gripped her by the arms and held her stiffly away. The conflict was written clearly on his face. He wanted to hold her, but now he was all too conscious of their potential audience, in too many ways. "The others…" he began, responding quickly to the hurt look on her face.

"Auron, damn it, I need you to hold me again, just for a few minutes, before we head back to join the others, and that's all. Either they are too far away to see anything, so a hug won't make any difference, or, they can see everything, in which case, they just saw us practically jump each other's bones out here, in which case, a simple hug is pretty much…anticlimactic, wouldn't you say?" Her voice was quivering, whether with pain or rage, he couldn't tell. But he could that her eyes were bright with unshed tears, and he could not bear that for a single instant, no matter his own misgivings. He drew her into his arms, and held her tight.

_What's wrong with you, love? How much of us did you have to bury, just to survive? How much of yourself did you lose along the way? I should have known better than to think this was going to be easy_. She tried to keep her tears inside, as she clung to him.

He kissed her hair, and ran his hands down her back, keeping her close to him for a few more minutes. _I dreamed of this moment, never thinking beyond the rapture to the reality. I am not the man I was in your Zanarkand. I could not continue to be, and go on. I have to be what I am now, to complete my task. I hope that you can find enough of what you want, what you need, that you will still love me, my lady. I do not believe that I can bear to lose you again_.

He coughed, and she raised her head. "There's something I need you to do, before we return to the others," he began, uncertainty in his voice. He dropped his arms from around her, and brought his hands together, between them. She saw it clearly, now, his wedding ring on his right hand, where it would normally be hidden under his glove. Her eyes flicked up to his face, and then down again, as he drew the ring from his finger, and dropped it into her cupped palm. He held his left hand out to her now; fingers splayed so that she could easily slip the ring back onto its proper place, the third finger of his left hand.  
As the gold band slid home, she lifted her gaze to his face again, and whispered the words of the ceremony to him softly, "With this ring, I thee wed," as a tear slid down her cheek.  
He wiped the tear away with a caress of his thumb. "I promised you, my lady, that I would wear it, always," he whispered back hoarsely, pulling her close again.

"We need to go," he finally said, "before they send out a search party." Her head lifted from his chest and her eyes met his. Then he said the one thing he was certain would get her moving. "Tidus is waiting for us." He had seen sunny days that were not as bright as her answering smile.

"Then we'd better go. I'm surprised he's waited this long," she said, laughing a little now at the touch of this pure, unalloyed joy. She slipped out of his embrace, and reached for her pack and her swords, taking a few seconds to replace them about her person. As she adjusted her swords in her belt, she studied her husband while he searched his upside-down coat for a pocket to stuff his glove into, clearly not intending to pull it back on. Her expression turned serious. _Now I know. He buried everything. Hidden away, like his ring. Will we have to start all over again? There's no time...maybe only tonight. Do the others even know I exist? What a mess!_ Her gaze moved from his hands, back to his face.

He caught her look, and guessed something of the direction of her thoughts. "The others do know about you…about us," he corrected himself. "It seems that I talk in my sleep," he paused, a wry smile on his lips for a moment. "I am told that…I call your name," he continued quietly, his gaze locked with hers. "Tidus finally told them the story," he finished.

She let out a breath. "I see," she said. _I see you couldn't quite manage to hide everything, at least not from yourself_. She took another deep breath, and let it out again. "Shouldn't we just go, before the search parties set out?" she asked.

"You're right, we should. Waiting patiently is not something that Tidus does well," he replied.

"He comes by that honestly," she laughed. "He got that from both of us, as well as from Jecht. Let's go." They started to walk down the road, side by side. Walking together still seemed as natural as breathing. She took her position on his right, and he automatically accommodated his pace to hers. "Tell me about Tidus. How's he been, really?"

Auron took his time, and chose his words carefully. "He has…done well. He has grown up since he has been here. You will be proud of him."

She tried to read his face. "Are you…proud of him?"

"Yes," he answered, without hesitation. _But have you told him that?_ She knew the answer in her heart. _I bet not. I couldn't get you to tell him in Zanarkand, and I'm sure you haven't done it here, not the way you're acting now. Men. Why are they all so damn stubborn?_ She sighed. _I need to change the subject, before I start this useless fight again_. "Who's your summoner?"

"Braska's daughter, Yuna, as I feared," he answered sadly. "She looks so much like her mother. But, she has her father's spirit. Braska would be proud of her. And before you ask, no, I have not found an answer. Neither has Tidus. And his need is now more urgent than mine. They love each other."

She sucked in air, suddenly, in a whoosh of surprise. "And we thought five years wasn't nearly enough time." She shook her head at the injustice of it all.

"It wasn't," he said, letting his hand brush against hers for a moment, "but it seems like eternity in comparison."

She choked back tears again. "Are there any other guardians?"

"Yes, four more," he stated.

"Four more!" she almost whooped with surprised laughter. "Auron, I remember you said that the teachings 'encouraged' small groups. Aren't you all pretty unpopular with the temples?"

"I believe that we have given the temples considerably more to worry about than the size of this party," he said, sarcasm clear in his voice. "But I will let Tidus tell you the story when we reach the others. You know that he will tell it anyway, and at length, so you might as well save your ears." He smiled as he spoke. They were both all too aware of the young man's extreme wordiness.

"Oh, alright. I give up. Tell me about the other guardians, since I'm going to be meeting them pretty soon. I'd like to be a little prepared," she sighed with mock resignation.

"Kimahri Ronso is still with Yuna. After he took her to Besaid, he decided to remain there, guarding her. He raised her as if she were his daughter." Auron paused, swallowed hard, then continued. "He took my place."

Mercy reached for his hand, and twined her fingers with his for a long moment, letting him take comfort from her touch. "And I will finally get the chance to thank him for doing it. He freed you to come to my Zanarkand…to raise Tidus as if he were your own. You couldn't do both." He finally nodded his head at her words, rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb, and released her hand.

"There is also Yuna's Al Bhed cousin, Rikku. She is very young for a guardian, even by Spira's standards. And the clergy were not pleased with her inclusion among Yuna's guardians, either." His expression became suddenly guarded. "The remaining two are Yuna's childhood friends from Besaid. One is a Blitzball player, a young man named Wakka. He is a strong fighter but unfortunately a devout Yevonite. He initially had some…difficulties when he discovered that Yuna's cousin was an Al Bhed. The last is a black mage," his voice dropped and Mercy didn't quite catch the next word, she thought it was either 'witch' or 'bitch', "called Lulu." _Well_, she thought, _that answers that little question. I wonder exactly what Lulu the 'witch bitch' tried three sennights ago? She will definitely not be trying it again_.

They were close enough now that there wasn't really time for any more questions, or especially, any more answers. Mercy was grateful. She wasn't sure she could handle another answer like that last one, and she really wasn't ready to deal with any of the questions Auron must be planning to ask, so she just kept walking. The rest of the questions, and the answers, would come soon enough. But first, Tidus was waiting for her.

End Chapter-Twenty-Three


	24. People's Parties

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The title of this chapter is from a song performed by Joni Mitchell.

* * *

From the campsite, all that the others had been able to see had been Auron dashing headlong down the road, another figure running in the distance towards their camp, and, finally, two dark silhouettes merging into one. Nothing more. Now, Yuna stood next to Tidus, watching the two figures draw near. She held his hand in hers, and felt it tremble in anticipation. Yuna studied the older woman as she approached, and recognized that Tidus' description had been surprisingly accurate. She saw a woman who she assumed must be around Sir Auron's own age, just a little taller than she herself was, but, as Tidus had said, a little shorter in stature than Lulu, with very short, very dark, brown hair, mixed with silver gray, but not as much as Sir Auron's, large, deep-set brown eyes, with a woman's shape that was, indeed, like Lulu's somewhat, but slimmer, or less overblown, and with a face that was very beautiful, because of the spirit and strength of the woman behind it. Her clothes were stained and dirty and threadbare, and she still wore her dignity like a queen. _I wish I had the time to get to know her better_, Yuna thought sadly. 

Tidus couldn't contain himself any longer. There was something he'd been needing to say, and do, for four months now, and he thought he'd never have the chance. They were close enough that he could see their faces clearly now. It wasn't his place to run to her, that was Auron's place, but he thought he had the right to do this. He squeezed Yuna's hand gently, and then he let her go, and began to walk, fast but not too fast. Mercy saw him break away from the others, and unconsciously sped up. Auron deliberately slowed his own pace, letting them have this moment alone. The tears she hadn't shed in front of him four months ago were running down her face, but this time they were tears of joy. Tidus knew his own cheeks were wet, and he didn't care, as he wrapped her in a tight hug, backpack, swords, and all. She hugged him back so hard, one of her swords dug into his ribs. He whispered in her ear, "Love you," smiling and letting the tears fall. "Love you, too," she whispered back.

Yuna started to move forward, to share in the moment, but Auron caught her eye with his, and shook his head, telling her clearly that she should stay back, and she bowed to his judgment.

Tidus and Mercy looked into each other's faces, and started to laugh. She wiped away his tears with her hand, then she dried her face on the collar of his shirt. He hugged her again, still laughing, but let her go quickly when her sword hilt hit the same spot in his ribs a second time. They began walking toward the others, their arms still around each other in easy, open affection, as Auron prowled on Mercy's other side. At the edge of the campsite, Tidus began, "Hey, guys, this is Mercy…"

Tidus' voice trailed off as Auron slung his own arm around Mercy's shoulders, pulled her away from Tidus and fitted her against his own right side, as he finished the sentence with, "my wife." In spite of the pack she still wore, his hand cupped her shoulder, so that he could reach the bare skin on her neck with his long fingers and thumb, as he seemed to want to, because he was doing it. She had to suppress the warm shiver that ran down her spine. She slid her arm under the top half of his still-fallen coat, and rested her hand on his hip, just below his belt. _Some things never change. You still get possessive._ _And I still enjoy it…in small doses. I just wonder when we're going to get to possess each other_…

But he had drawn attention to himself with his actions, and they all finally registered the change in his appearance. They were all used to thinking of him as old, partly because he was older than they were, and more experienced, and partly because they had taken their cues from Tidus' familiar name for him, hearing Tidus call him 'old man' so often, they had come to think of him as an old man in truth. The facade he presented to the world had assisted in that illusion; except in battle, almost all they ever saw of him was his mane of graying hair. But now, the illusion was shattered. The man standing in their midst was clearly not 'three years older than Yevon', as they had always thought. Without his glasses, without his collar, and with his coat pulled all the way down, they all saw him for what he truly was, a very impressive man in his prime. The fact that his lips were still swollen, and that the woman at his side was very definitely his wife and very clearly had a small bruise on her neck made by those lips, made Yuna and Rikku both blush, and caused Lulu to fume inwardly. Belatedly, Auron realized the picture they presented, and he let his arm drop from around Mercy's shoulders, his own face red. Mercy wanted to kick him, but she let him go without a word.

Tidus, grinning eagerly, broke the sudden tension by turning to Mercy and saying, "Let me introduce you to everyone." She just nodded, consenting to the inevitable, knowing that she needed to get a handle on each of the personalities that made up this party as quickly as possible. Yuna was standing by his side, her shoulder brushing against his arm. He and Yuna shared a brief look, then Tidus placed his hand in the small of her back, and began, "Mercy, this is Yuna, our Summoner."

_Even if I didn't know, I would know_, Mercy thought. _The way he touches her, even the way he says her name, and the way she looks back at him. This is what I hoped for him to find. But not to lose, especially not so soon._ "Yuna, I am glad to meet you. Auron told me so many stories about his journey with your father, that I feel as if I already know you, at least a little," Mercy said, smiling at the young woman Tidus had chosen.

Yuna's bi-colored eyes, in fact her whole head, swung from Auron to Mercy and back again, as she tried to take everything in. In the end, she addressed Auron first, in a voice breathy with excitement. "Sir Auron, this is so wonderful," she cried, her hands clasped in front of her. Then, she turned to Mercy and bowed very deeply, a gesture of great respect. Mercy was surprised, but not half as surprised as when Yuna began speaking to her, saying "Lady Mercy, I am so honored to meet you. It is a miracle that you were also able to make the journey from the other Zanarkand to Spira.

_Sir Auron...him...Mr. I'd rather grunt than talk...with a title? Yeah, right. And Lady Mercy sounds like somebody's granny. No way Yuna means me_. Mercy saw something out of the corner of her eye, a look, a sort of eye roll, that Tidus was clearly sharing with Auron over her head. _Oh great, it's a guy thing now, and the joke is on me. I just hate it when they do that_.

Kimahri stepped up next to Yuna, and Mercy was forced to look up, way, way, up to meet his yellow eyes. _So this is a Ronso. Wow! Auron's descriptions didn't even come close to doing him justice_. Unfortunately, just at that moment she saw him share that same sort of 'guy thing' expression with Tidus, and presumably Auron, just before he looked down at her. _Oh great, I guess 'male bonding' translates cross-species. I so didn't need to know that_. Still, Kimahri's deep bass voice was respectful as he said, "Kimahri also glad to meet Lady Mercy."  
Whatever joke the 'boys' were sharing at her expense, Mercy was awfully glad to meet Kimahri, too, even if the Ronso was considerably more impressive, and somehow more exotic, than Auron's long ago descriptions had led her to expect. She'd been saving something up for a long time, just in case this moment ever arrived. Mercy bowed low to the Ronso, the same gesture of deep respect that Yuna had given her a few minutes earlier. Kimahri's tail swished in surprise as Mercy told him, "I am honored to meet you, Kimahri. Auron told me everything you did for him, at your first meeting, ten years ago." She placed a slight emphasis on the word 'everything', and Kimahri slowly blinked in understanding.  
"It is Kimahri who is honored, Lady."  
"Thank you, Kimahri, for everything," she replied. He inclined his head in acknowledgement. As Kimahri retreated to his accustomed place guarding Yuna's back, Mercy repeated Kimahri's words in her mind. _Lady again. Lady who? Lady had Auron forgotten to tell me something? Damn the man_, she cursed inwardly.

A small blonde woman-child bounced up and silently handed Auron his abandoned glasses. He absently stuffed them somewhere inside his coat. _Amazing! The damn thing must have pockets facing all directions. I wonder what'll happen if he tries to pull it back on. _She stifled a giggle._ I must be getting punchy. Thank goodness he's leaving them off, anyway. The rest of this evening will be a lot easier if I'm not trying to read his face through those damn glasses_. Mercy forced her attention back to Rikku's swirling green eyes.  
"Hi, I'm Rikku. Pleased to meet you."  
"Hello, Rikku. I'm pleased to meet you, too. I've never met an Al Bhed before. Auron told me that your people salvage machina and repair it. Is that right?"  
"Yep," Rikku agreed happily.  
"I don't suppose you've found any music machina, by any chance?" Mercy asked intently.  
"There's a big one on Pops' airship, it's part of the ship," the girl answered, puzzled.  
"That's not quite what I meant," Mercy said, shaking her head. "Something about so high," she held her hand up at her own waist, "on wheels maybe. Or a little box, about so big," she made a shape in the air, "and after all this time, I expect it sounds pretty sad if you try to play it," she laughed softly.  
"Nothing that size that I know of," Rikku answered slowly, "but I'll ask Pops if you can look." She brightened for a second. "I'll even help you. I promise." Then the girl's shoulders slumped. "But first, we gotta…think of something."  
Mercy reached out, and put her hand on the young girl's shoulder for just a moment. "I know, Rikku, I know."  
Rikku nodded, as Mercy's hand fell away, and the Al Bhed stepped back a little, so that Wakka could come forward to greet the newcomer.

Auron had been watching the entire…performance was probably the best word, he decided, with fascination. _She is…what did she used to call it…I remember…'working the room'…that was it…even if this place hardly qualifies. I used to watch her do this, back in Zanarkand, the few times I would have to go with her to some…function… she called them. She said it was not natural behavior for her, but that she had learned the manner of it, because it was necessary for her job. She would tease me; say I was undoing all her hard work, by standing next to her and glowering. I can see that she is trying so hard right now…attempting to make some impression of her own on as many of them as possible. She is hoping that some of them will accept her…at least a little for herself, so that she does not have to…how would she put it…totally ride in on my…coattails._ He studied her face closely, and then crossed his arms over his chest. _And I believe she has almost determined the nature of my little 'surprise', as well. Back in Zanarkand, I never knew that she would ever come here to be surprised, or I would have told her then. Now, the wrong word from Wakka will settle the matter. And Wakka usually manages to say exactly the wrong word. I should feel sorry for him, but he will get over this. I am the one who will catch the full force of her anger, later_.

As the big Blitzball player stepped forward, Mercy found herself wondering, _Why does he torture his hair that way? Doesn't he know that looks ridiculous on a grown man?_

The moment Tidus finished introduced the big Blitzball player, Wakka opened up his mouth and unknowing stuck both his feet into it, by starting his speech with, "Lady Mercy, it is truly the blessing of Yevon that you are here."  
Whatever else Wakka had intended to say, he never went past that first sentence, and Mercy didn't hear anything more than his first two words, because something exploded in her brain after she heard that phrase, "Lady Mercy" for the third time. _This is ridiculous. Never mind, this is insane!_ She turned her head, saw the lazy grin on her husband's face, and pivoted her whole body to face him. _Damn you, you've been waiting for this, haven't you_, she thought at him, but didn't say. They stared each other down for a moment, oblivious to everyone else in the vicinity. One corner of his mouth quirked up slightly and she wasn't sure whether she wanted to slap his face, or eat him up with a spoon. Some of the heat of that thought must have showed in her face, because his eyebrow shot up knowingly, and she had to suppress a laugh, because she was still extremely annoyed with him.

"Auron?" her low voice sounded displeased.  
"Yes, my lady," his, on the other hand, seemed amused.  
"I seem to have acquired a title somewhere along the way. There should have been a ceremony, but I don't seem to recall it." Now, she was being sarcastic.  
His expression didn't change as he drawled, "But there was a ceremony." Then he tapped his wedding ring. "This one."  
She sighed in resignation. "I thought that was what you were going to say. And you didn't tell me this because?" He opened his mouth as if to start speaking, and she motioned with her hands for him to stop. "No, never mind now, there's too much other stuff we all need to discuss, I think. We, just you and me, we'll talk about this later," she finished, favoring him with a dark look.

Tidus grinned at both of them. Their 'act' was so familiar to him, it was as though a part of his world that he hadn't been aware was unsteady had finally righted itself. Most of the others didn't quite know how to react. This was a side of Auron that they had not only never seen, had never expected to see, but had simply never had any idea could even possibly exist. They were still recovering from the shock of it all.

Lulu, however, was furious, jealous, and envious, all at the same time, so she spoke up, from behind the others, without waiting to be introduced. "It seems very…convenient…your appearance here. How did you manage to arrive at just this time? Where have you been the last four months? What have you been doing?" The mage's voice was colder than the snow on Gagazet.  
Mercy knew a challenge when she heard one. "And you would be?" she asked, calmly, politely, even though she already knew the answer.  
Wakka was the one who filled the silence, saying, "This is Lulu, our black mage."  
_So,_ Mercy wondered, _Wakka, are you her champion, are you the only one who doesn't know she might have just stepped in it, or both?_ Aloud, she said graciously, "Thanks for the introduction, Wakka. Why don't we all sit by your campfire, and swap stories? I would be more than happy to go first."

Mercy couldn't help herself; she studied the group as they settled around the fire, trying to figure out what the relationships were, where she might make a place for herself, just trying to get a handle on things. She had to suppress a smile as she looked around the circle, unconsciously, they had ended up boy, girl, boy, girl, all around. _I wonder what they did before I got here, and evened up the numbers?_ That thought did raise a small smile. She was 'home', in her accustomed place, Auron on her left, Tidus on her right. Tidus was sprawled on the ground, and Yuna was folded elegantly beside him, their hands linked on the sand. Kimahri stood next to her, standing guard, almost in the position that the old military textbooks called, 'Parade Rest'. Lulu next, glaring with hostile intent from across the circle. Wakka, then Rikku, both waiting eagerly for the story to begin, and then back to Auron again. _I think that if I close my eyes, I can still tell exactly how close he is to me, just from his body heat. It would be so easy to lean into his shoulder. I just wish I could. But his back is so stiff; I don't dare touch him right now. Might as well start talking._

She flexed her shoulders, now free of the pack sitting on the ground behind her, and idly ran her fingers along the scabbard of one of her swords, resting on the ground in front of her. A last, sidelong glance at her husband revealed nothing more than his tense posture and the blind, scarred side of his face as he stared into the fire.

She began. "After…" and as soon as he heard her voice, his head turned, and their eyes met, so she told her story to him, as though the others weren't even there. "After you left, I went to the windows, to watch you go. I saw the tidal wave…it was absolutely massive…heading towards the city. It looked like it was coming straight for our building. The ball of water that was over it, it seemed different from the tsunami. It didn't look so nasty, I guess because it wasn't sending out those projectiles."  
"The projectiles were Sinspawn," Tidus informed her.  
"I know, hon…but all I saw at the time was that the water ball seemed less actively hostile than the tidal wave. It looked like the lesser of two evils. I grabbed my backpack, and headed for the roof of the building. I suppose I thought that if the 'ball' part got me, it would be gentler, or at least, less violent, so that I would have a better chance to reach your Farplane that way. As for why I picked up the pack, I don't know. Force of habit, I suppose." She looked away from Auron as she finished, and met Lulu's cold, assessing gaze.

The mage's voice broke in, sharper than any steel, "Why didn't Sir Auron take you with him? And why were you trying to reach the Farplane?" Lulu's words were weapons, aimed at Mercy's heart.  
But Auron was the one who answered, his gravelly voice easily heard in the silence that followed the mage's harsh questions. "We knew Sin would come that night." He heard Tidus suck in a sharp breath, and met the young man's eyes in mute apology. Then his gaze swept the circle, before it returned to the fire. "But I did not take her with me because…I believed that Sin would destroy her before my eyes…if I tried to bring her to Spira." He closed his eye, clenched his jaw tight for a long moment. Guilt tore through him, for all the pain he put her through, along with a deep anger at himself, for all the time that he had wasted, when they might have been together on this journey. "I must have been mistaken," he finished, his words dropping into the silence that surrounded them.  
Mercy wished that she had just talked fast enough to keep the witch from opening her mouth. "Auron, we don't know if you were right, or not," she offered soothingly, all that she could say in front of the others.

The silence stretched out around the party, until Yuna broke the tension by asking, "Please, Lady Mercy, would you continue with your story?"  
Somewhat awkwardly, Mercy picked up the thread of the tale where she had been interrupted. "I waited for Sin's 'water ball form' up on the roof of our building. I don't know, maybe it was because our building was so tall, but, instead of being killed, I was swept up into the edge of the ball. Next thing I knew, I was here, still in Zanarkand, but in Spira."

"If you knew where you were, why didn't you just walk out? Why wait here?" Lulu's skepticism was clear in her tone.  
"Not the most hospitable accommodations, are they?" Mercy laughed, but it was clear that she was being sarcastic. "Nor is this much like my Zanarkand, but yes, I knew exactly where I was. Auron told me about Spira. And that massive wreck up ahead is definitely the Blitzball stadium." She grinned with genuine affection at Tidus. "You dragged us to far too many games for me to ever forget the place." The young man grinned back at her in reply.  
Mercy stared down into the fire again. "But the only way out of here is over Gagazet." She shivered. "Besides the fact that I have no cold weather gear," Her voice turned sharp, as she bit off each word, "My mother didn't raise any foolish children. One fighter, alone, can barely survive on this plain, if she is careful, and lucky, and keeps to the shadows. That would not have been possible on the mountain. There are too many fiends for one fighter traveling alone. I would have become a fiend myself weeks ago, if the Ronso hadn't found me first and killed me on sight. They would have assumed that I was a fiend, and only learned of their error when it was too late. At least the Ronso might have had me sent." Her eyes met Kimahri's, and he nodded at her assessment.  
Mercy turned, and stared into Lulu's eyes. "Either way, I would not be here to trouble you now." _Lulu girl, we can't always get what we want. Now back off, please. I can fence with you all night, but none of us need this now. Don't make Yuna choose between you, and Auron and Tidus, because that is what this will come down to, girl. And Yunalesca will make sure we all lose, come tomorrow. Back off!_ Whether some of her message got through, or Lulu simply realized that the others were all staring at her, that she had perhaps challenged this woman too many times in too short a span of time for no apparent reason, the black mage closed her eyes momentarily, and it allowed the tension to ease again.

Mercy decided it was time to wrap up her story, and quickly. She wanted to shift the focus of the group away from herself, as much as was possible under the circumstances, before they asked too many more questions. "So, I have been here, as I said, being very careful and keeping myself very much to the shadows, and thankfully I have been very, very lucky. The place has gone considerably downhill since my time." She tried to make it a joke, but it came out more as a strangled sob. She looked up into the stars for a moment, and blinked back tears, then began again. "I've been waiting for the first summoner's party to show up, so I could get news and cross back over the mountain with them. It's been four months! What took you guys so long?" she asked in mock indignation.

Tidus, of course, was the one who began to answer her. "Well, first…"  
Mercy smiled at him indulgently and held up a hand to stop him, before he launched into his trademark non-stop talking mode. "Tidus, honey, I love you dearly, but can you please give me the really, truly, extremely short version, just this once?" She was grinning at him now, a wide, ear-to-ear grin filled with both knowledge and affection. After a tiny gasp at Mercy's casual use of the endearment in Tidus' direction, something Yuna wasn't used to hearing, the young summoner found herself trying unsuccessfully to stifle her laughter at the reaction on Tidus' face, a mixture of consternation and resignation. Mercy clearly knew him all too well. Yuna finally collapsed in giggles, as did Rikku. Tidus blushed furiously, as Wakka laughed out loud. Even Auron and Kimahri chuckled quietly. But Lulu did not find the byplay between Mercy and Tidus the least bit amusing. As Tidus began to regale Mercy with what he considered to be a condensed version of their journey, Lulu's face took on what could only be considered a derisive expression, but whether it was directed at Mercy's person or Tidus' storytelling, Mercy was unable to judge.

While Mercy fixed her attention on Tidus, and the others who could not resist chiming in as he related the tale of their early adventures, Auron stared into the fire and reviewed his wife's tale in his mind. There was something about her story that did not quite match his own recollections of that last, frantic race through the falling city. As he replayed the images as he remembered them, he also brought back the burning ache in his gut that he had left her behind to die alone, and had to fight back the bile that rose in his throat to see again what he needed to see, the tops of the buildings that Sin sucked in as it brushed past in its water ball shape before it spread out into the void that had sucked them in. Anything, and anyone, that had been brushed by that ball had been destroyed, he was certain. _What really happened to her? Do I even care, as long as she is here?_ He turned his head to look at her profile, slightly turned away from him at the moment. _I just need to know the truth, whatever it is_. His attention returned to the story that Tidus was telling her, then he went totally and completely still, as he realized the place that the young man had reached. The tale had reached Guadosalam, and he recalled his moment of weakness on the stairs of the Farplane, asking at the last moment if Tidus would look for Mercy…who was not on the Farplane because she sat beside him now. He felt foolish, and angry, mostly with himself. _I could have saved myself a great deal of grief if I had resisted that impulse that afternoon. _Then he remembered the gnawing emptiness of even the earliest days of this pilgrimage. _Perhaps not, _he decided uneasily.

Mercy felt Auron staring at her, and turned her head to face him. Tidus, talking animatedly, had gotten most of the others to participate in this re-telling of their saga. He pretended not to notice the loss of his intended audience, because he believed he had attained his real goal. It looked like it was too late for them to set out tonight. He didn't care what else happened now.

So Mercy turned, and her eyes locked with Auron's, and the world fell away. He stopped thinking, and his raw need for her showed clearly on his face. She felt it too. The fire was suddenly too hot. She pulled her tunic away from her neck, and his eye followed her every movement avidly. He was so hard for her, he ached with it. He wanted to pick up her and throw her over his shoulder, just carry her off, to hell with the consequences. His heart hammered against his ribs, and he could hear her rapid breathing. She dropped her hand to the ground, slid it along the sand toward him, reaching out. He stared down at her hand, consciousness of the others creeping back. He hesitated. He took too long for her, she began to withdraw. Swiftly, he grabbed her hand, and laced his fingers intimately with hers.

Lulu watched them with a kind of terrible fascination; in the way that you watch yourself pull off a scab that you know will hurt horribly and ooze disgusting things. _I wondered if he still burned_, she thought to herself. _I certainly know the answer now. He burns like a beacon in the night. But only for her. I do not understand it, but I see it with my own eyes_. Her face twisted in contempt. _The legendary guardian. Hah! He thinks his defenses are still intact, that he can retreat behind them whenever he wants. He does not see that they are crumbling around him. He reacts to her, even when he does not intend to. Fool!_

Mercy didn't notice the black mage silently observing from across the circle. She only saw the promise in Auron's slow smile. He quirked an eyebrow, gestured with his free hand, indicating that she had better return her attention to the story that was being told for her benefit. _Infuriating man_, she thought. _One minute, come here. The next minute, leave me alone. Zanarkand normal or Spira normal, whatever that is_. Before she turned her attention back to Tidus, she began to stroke the inside of his wrist with her thumb as they clasped hands. His skin was sensitive there, and his eye half-closed as the pleasure ran through him. She stopped and he opened his eye to concentrate on her face. She licked her lips suggestively. His breath hitched, and he had to clench his jaw to suppress a groan. She smiled wickedly, then turned her attention back to the storyteller, still keeping her fingers twined with her husband's.

By the time the tale reached the Gagazet peak, Mercy began to wonder if she had misheard, or miscounted, something while she had been 'flirting' with Auron. "Wait a minute, just how many times have you killed this Seymour bastard? I think I've lost count, but it's definitely crazy, whatever the number is."  
"Crazy is the word for Seymour, all right," Tidus answered her with a bitter laugh. "Macalania, Bevelle and Gagazet. Three times. That ought to be enough," he said with finality.  
"Seymour was not sent," Auron told her. "He will return. He wishes to become the next Sin. He does not understand." Mercy squeezed his hand gently, but he withdrew from her. Suddenly she wondered, _do any of them understand? _  
Tidus, not realizing the full import of what Auron had said, responded, "Yeah, that's right. He doesn't understand that we'll just keep killing him until he finally does understand. He's history." Auron turned his face away, withdrawing inside the darkness of his own thoughts. _She distracts me, and…I reveal too much_.

Then they all heard the rumble of thunder in the distance. Mercy, embarrassed, rubbed her hand over her empty belly. "Oops, sorry," she muttered, her face pink.  
"You hungry?" Wakka asked in concern.

"I think the last time I ate was…midday maybe?" she confessed. "I'm starving. Have you got anything I could eat? I was lucky, my pack had most of the trail rations, but I hate trail rations, and anyway, I ran out of those a long time ago. And you know, there are a lot more fiends around here than beasts. I mean, those clouds of pyreflies are really pretty, and it's very tidy not having the carcasses lying around," she exchanged a look with Auron over that particular remark, then went on, "but there's nothing for the stewpot, if you know what I mean. I'd planned on going hunting today, because I was pretty much out of everything, then you lot showed up, and well, slight change of plans." She shrugged. "At this point, I'd eat anything, even trail rations," she grinned, "but I'd just about kill for some fruit. I haven't had any in ages and ages."

There were smiles all around, as everyone went through their packs, hunting for caches of dried fruit and whatever other goodies they had stashed away. After a few minutes, she had a meal consisting of travel bread, jerky, and, heavenly days, a tiny bag of raisins and one slightly wizened apple that Rikku had found at the bottom of her pack. Thanking them all profusely between mouthfuls, Mercy ate her 'dinner' while Tidus finished up the remainder of their tale. He and Wakka had snacks of their own, just so she wouldn't feel uncomfortable about eating alone.

When both the story and the impromptu meals were finished, Yuna announced, "I think we should camp here, for the night. Then we can get a fresh start in the morning." Tidus tried to keep the grin from his face. He had been right. It was too late to keep going on tonight, so telling Mercy the story of their journey had bought them an extra night before they had to meet Yunalesca. An awkward silence descended, as everyone tried to figure out how to handle the camping arrangements, now complicated by the latest addition to their party.

Kimahri's bass voice dropped into the stillness. "Camp here. Kimahri, Tidus, first watch. Wakka, Rikku, second watch. Kimahri, Lulu, last watch. Auron not watch. Auron and his lady camp on other side of hill. Come back in morning." His tail switched back and forth with every clipped sentence.

Everyone was nonplussed for several seconds. Mercy was the first to recover. She thought that being a Ronso must give Kimahri a tremendous advantage in situations like this. He simply didn't blush the way that humans did. She knew she was blushing furiously, but she wasn't going to let that stop her. She got up and bowed respectfully to the Ronso. "Thank you, Kimahri," she said. As she rose, she winked at the blue-furred warrior. Kimahri blinked slowly in reply. Mercy looked over at Auron. He was speechless, she was not surprised at this, but at least she saw that the man was moving. As she picked up her swords and her pack, she watched him while he collected his gear. His face was stained dark red under his tan, and there was an abruptness to his movements that further indicated his embarrassment. She hoped it was only the method he objected to, and not the result, although the way he had been acting tonight, she was nowhere near certain of anything. She called, "Good night, everyone," as they walked out of the camp together. The only sound out of Auron was, "Hmph," as he stalked off into the night.

End Chapter Twenty-Four


	25. Haven't Got Time for the Pain

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The title of this chapter is from a song performed by Carly Simon.

* * *

Auron and Mercy were both silent as they walked around the hill to the side opposite the main camp. She watched her husband out of the corner of her eye as he paced at her side. _He's withdrawn again. What is eating him? I wish I hadn't asked that stupid question about what's-his-name…Seymour. Hell, what does it matter, if it hadn't been that, it would have been something else. I swear, the man is driving me out of my mind! At this point, if I were a Summoner, I'd be half tempted to send him myself, just to put him out of my misery_, she reflected sarcastically. _Lucky for him, that's impossible_.

Auron stared straight ahead as he paced, letting anger fill him. Of all the emotions racing around inside him at this moment, it was the only one that would keep him moving forward, however unjustified it was, so he held onto it grimly. _Why didn't she at least try the mountain_, he asked himself, over and over. _She was fit and healthy, she could have made the attempt. She might have met us on the Thunder Plains, or Macalania, at the latest._ Still locked inside his own head, he reached the point he judged to be the correct spot, and dropped his pack on the ground from standing height. It made a solid 'whoosh' when it hit the sandy soil.

The noise pulled her out of her dark reverie. _Looks like we're camping here_, she acknowledged to herself, watching his jerky movements as he knelt to unstrap his bedroll.  
He kept his blind side turned towards her, as his thoughts buzzed like angry wasps. _I managed the climb over Gagazet alone, half-dead. Couldn't she have at least tried?_ His conscience roared back at him, _Fool! You had just removed most of the fiends, and Braska had just brought the Calm. The carrion-eaters were squabbling over your soon-to-be-fresh corpse. You were perversely lucky. You were properly equipped for the conditions, and the Ronso already knew you. The circumstances were not the same, and you know it. She acted correctly. Enough!_

Mercy heard him snap his bedroll into place on the ground, and lay his sword down. He threw his belt over his pack with sharp slap of leather against leather. His armor followed, landing on his pack so hard that all the metal buckles rattled. She bent over to spread her own bedroll out on the ground next to his. She didn't need to watch to know what he was doing, in the still night, his movements were so loud, she could track him by the sounds alone. She pulled a thin blanket from her own pack, along with the threadbare bundle of clothing she used as a pillow. Then she laid her own swords down where she could reach them easily if they were attacked during the night, and began to unwind her belt.

His coat had fallen to the ground; he kicked it to the 'foot' of the bed, then sat heavily and began to yank off his boots. The prod from his conscience forced his emotions onto another track, and after he set his boots aside he stared up into the night sky, and guilt punched him in the stomach. _The sky between the stars is black, as black as the witch's hair, and how in the hell am I supposed to tell my wife about that?_ He reached blindly for his jug, took a long pull, rinsed his mouth, and spat out the liquor. _Every time I think about what happened, I need to wash the taste of it out of my mouth. Whoever said confession was good for the soul, surely did not have a wife as adept with the swords as mine is. But I must tell her, and pray she forgives me_.

She finished undoing her belt, stripped off her tunic, and stuffed them both into her pack. Then she sat on her own bedroll with her back to her husband, her knees drawn up and her arms clasped around them, her eyes closed, her cheek resting on her knees, thinking, _This is not how it was supposed to be. We were supposed to make love first, then reveal all the horrible truths. Not begin with this brittle silence_. Eventually, she gathered up the energy to work on getting her thigh-high boots off by herself. She leaned back, and her right shoulder settled into his solidly muscled back. She felt his whole body go completely still. She took a deep breath, got a firm grip on her right boot, and yanked it off.

He held his breath. When she touched him, he felt it as a blow to his heart, his emotions crashed into darkness, and he was completely paralyzed. Fear. Mind-numbing, heart-stopping, gut-wrenching fear. _We are only certain of tonight. Tomorrow, there will be…battles…fiends. It is worse than when we hunted in the hills. She could fall, in any battle, on any day. Spira is infinitely more hazardous than the dream city. A hundred-fold, a thousand…it does not matter, more is more. Yuna will make her choice tomorrow. She will see the true face of Yevon. When she hears Yunalesca's offer, I do not know what she will choose. I have had too many nightmares where I have seen the face of the next Sin…and it is a Ronso face, with a broken horn. If that is her choice, we could fight Sin as soon as tomorrow, or as late as a month from now. But if she refuses the bitch-queen…none of us will walk away unscathed. We will be fortunate if any of us escape, let alone all of us_.

Mercy leaned forward, grabbed her left boot, leaned again into Auron's back, and tugged, but it wouldn't give. She dug her shoulder into his back, wriggled her hips and twisted her whole body in an attempt to get some leverage on her stubborn footwear. Something, her movements, the noises she was making, or simply her fierce determination to 'win' an argument with an inanimate object, lifted his paralysis. _If we only have tonight, why am I just sitting here? Why aren't I helping her remove that boot_, he concluded, a half-smile forming on his lips. He swiveled in his seat, just as her foot popped out of her boot.  
Without his back to support her, propelled by her own momentum, she fell backwards, until he caught her under the shoulders with one arm, and she found herself in an awkward position, sprawled across his knees, with the sole of the boot still clutched in her upraised hands, and the rest of it flopping in her face. He plucked the boot out of her hands, and she could see his face, the half-smile, the warmth in his gaze. Her face lit in an answering smile, as he started to pull her up. Her palms skated up the corded muscles of his arms, and the warmth turned to heat.  
He lifted her easily, until her face was on a level with his. Her fingers touched his cheek, his hand framed her face, their lips met in a kiss that began in scorching intensity, and almost instantly got hotter. They pulled each other down onto the mats, their mouths still fused together.  
He dragged the strap of her bra down off her shoulder, exposing her breast. His hands were rough. Not only the texture of his skin, he was just...too desperate now, as though he resented the time it would take for him be gentle. She didn't care; she was too busy trying to claw his shirt up out of his pants. He rubbed his palm against the hard peak of her nipple, and she writhed under him. Her leg hooked around and she ran her heel up and down the back of his thigh. Someone started moaning, low, incoherent sounds. Her nails reached his skin; he felt the sting as they raked his back. It only added to the burn in his blood. His hand closed around her breast, hard and tight. It should have hurt, but it didn't, she just wanted more, more of everything...except their clothes. She tugged at his shirt again, urging him silently to get rid of it. He broke off kissing her just long enough to drag it over his head and throw it somewhere out of sight. She ditched her bra just before he fell back on top of her, holding her down with his body. Another kiss, hard, deep, possessive, equally for both of them, she wrapped the long tail of his hair around her fist, keeping his mouth slashed down on hers until the need for breath forced her to let him up.

He started to move then, his lips licking kisses down her neck, beginning to nibble when he reached the curve of her breast. He slid down over her, keeping her legs pinned together, and in a blinding flash she realized, _he's keeping me pinned so I won't leave, I don't care, this way he can't leave either_, and then his tongue licked the taut peak of her right breast, and all thought fled. She dug her nails into his back as he sucked her nipple into his mouth, and her head fell back in a silent scream as her whole body tried to arch underneath his. She could feel how hard he was, his erection was digging into her thigh. She flexed and rubbed against him, and he lost control, his teeth closing on her flesh. She whimpered, not in pain, but in pleasure at the heightened sensation, and he heard himself growl, low in his throat, as he caught her nipple between his teeth again as she clawed at his shoulders. _I can't take much more of this, we're way past needing any more foreplay, how do I get him out of his pants if I can't reach? Oh, talking, I remember that_. She took a breath, opened her mouth to say something, and he must have felt the movement, because he raised himself up on his arms, fast, and his mouth crushed hers, silencing her. His thoughts were practically incoherent, but the few sputtering brain cells had sent him the warning, _No talking. Every time we talk…we fuck things up_. So he tried to kiss her senseless instead.

She had him where she wanted him now, or at least one of the possibilities, except still with too many clothes. She slid both her hands down the back of his pants, inside, against his skin. She wasn't thinking anymore, she just splayed her fingers over the tautly muscled cheeks of his butt and tilted her hips, and he was fitted right against the notch between her thighs, and trying to find a way in through too many layers of clothes. He rolled off her then, sat up and began to unfasten his pants, as she started to wiggle out of hers. It was quicker this way. But her movements, the jiggle of her breasts and shimmy of her hips took all of his attention, and he was mesmerized as she rolled her leggings down, revealing the smooth curve of her belly. She stopped, looked into his staring face, and opened her mouth to speak. He pressed a finger to her lips to silence her again, and she sucked it suggestively. He trailed his now wet finger down over her breast, circling one still taut peak, then continued down her midriff to stop at the rolled-down waistband of her leggings. His hand dipped inside, teasing the dark, wet curls. She rubbed her hand against him, stroking him, teasing him equally, as she finished the job of undoing his buttons. He shucked his trousers fast so he could watch her roll down her leggings, feasting his gaze on each bit of her body as it was revealed.

Then his arms were bracketing her head, and he had one knee between her legs, silently asking if it was all right for him to do this, asking admittance with a sudden desperate look and a raised eyebrow, and her arms were around him, and her hips were tilted up to his, and in one swift thrust he was deep inside her, all the way in, and he thought, _This is the way it is supposed to be_, just before he bent to kiss her. They moved together then, their bodies remembering the rhythm. They pushed and pounded on each other, urging each other for more, harder, faster. She wrapped her legs around his waist, dug her heels into his back, pulling him in tight, pushing her hips up to meet his every thrust. He felt her body tense completely, saw her eyes go wide and blind, then she found her release, so hard, so complete, she thought she saw the stars shooting overhead. She also needed to scream so badly that she sank her teeth into his shoulder instead. He was so close to the edge himself, that it took him right over, and he pumped into her over and over as she convulsed around him.

They stayed like that for a while, unconscious, but eventually she woke up and forced him to heave himself off of her, to let her get some air. They settled down for the night as they always had, using her old blanket and his coat as bed coverings, and now he had her pillow, because she had his shoulder. _Fair is fair_, she thought. _But please, whoever watches out for fools and misguided travelers, don't let us get attacked tonight. I don't want to get up and hunt for his t-shirt right now, and I really, truly don't want to end up fighting naked in front of the others. And I especially don't want Lulu to find out exactly what she missed. _She snuggled her head into the hollow of her husband's shoulder, and sighed. _Do I do this now, or do we try to get some sleep first? I feel so good right now, so dreamy. I think my brain's turned to mush. But I supposed it had better be now. I might not get another chance like this. I think it'll be better if he's just as wiped out as I am_, she thought hazily. _It'll make it harder for him to run away again_. She raised herself on one elbow, and looked down into his face. _He's half asleep. This is going to be so much fun_, she decided sarcastically. _Now I know just how he felt, the day he told me about this place_.  
"Auron, love, we have to talk," she said, her voice quavering slightly.  
He wondered, _why does it always sound so ominous when a woman says, 'we have to talk'?_ _Because it always does sound ominous_, he decided. He was completely awake.  
"I didn't tell the others everything about how I got to Spira."  
He turned on his side, so that he could face her. He knew instantly from her expression that he wasn't going to like this story. "I didn't think so. Tell me," he ordered.

She drew back a little at his peremptory tone; so he took her hand, and laced his fingers with hers to soften his words, and to maintain the suddenly fragile contact between them. She looked down at their joined hands, then she began to tell the real story. "When you left, I did watch the tidal wave, and Sin coming, from the windows. That much was true. The wave was going to go straight through the building on its way to the stadium. You were right when you thought that building would be a target. It was." She shook her head at the memory. "It was coming on pretty fast. And it was so big; I knew I couldn't get far enough away fast enough, even if I'd wanted to. I knew I was going to die, but I didn't know if that would be enough to reach your Farplane." She stared into his face, gripped his hand, tried to will him to understand what she was saying. "Love, I believe you, I believe in you, I did from the very beginning, but I can't believe what you believe. Just because I knew I was going to die, didn't mean I wanted to die. I've never believed in your Farplane, just in you. I didn't know whether that would be enough, enough to let me in, or whether that would keep me out. I watched Sin come and said I wished there was another way, and then I heard fingers snapping behind me, and there was a woman, one of the fayth, in the room with me. She came out of nowhere. Shiva. She said there was another way if I chose to take it, but..." she suddenly stopped, and looked up into the stars, searching for the right words, or for courage. She found something, because her eyes returned to his face, and she continued, "But the other way involved great trials, and if we failed, great loss. But if we succeeded…if we succeeded," her voice softened, "our hearts' desire."  
"We?" he asked suspiciously.  
"I'm sorry, but yes. We. There was no other way." Her voice was firmer now.  
"Tell me the rest," he said, trying hard to keep it from sounding like an order this time.  
"She said that we had set the parameters for your part of the trial ourselves. I offered you your freedom, and you refused to take it. You gave me your word. So the trial was that someone would tempt you to break your word. It was Lulu, wasn't it, a little over three sennights ago?"  
His embarrassed silence was all the answer she needed, but eventually he choked out, "How did you know?"  
"Oh, please. You told me yourself; when you described the group, remember? I couldn't quite hear whether you called her a witch, or a bitch, or maybe you couldn't decide. You're still not good at barefaced lying, at least not to me. I know about the timing because of my part of the trial." She swallowed, hard. She knew this next bit would be the worst.

"I needed to ride Sin from Zanarkand to Spira, just as you did. But Jecht was expecting you and Tidus. He wouldn't have taken me the same way he did the two of you. Please stop feeling guilty, Auron. You couldn't have taken me with you. You probably were right about that. It probably wouldn't have worked. I didn't get here that way, so stop beating yourself up about it. You and Tidus went though the 'front door'; I guess you would call it. You knocked, and Jecht answered, more or less politely. Shiva said she would have to sneak me in, I suppose you could say, through the 'back door'. She explained to me what this 'other way' of hers was, and that she was certain it would work. I imagine that the fayth of Zanarkand, the fayth of the aeons, Sin, and Yevon are all interrelated somehow, and that's how she knew it was possible. But she said that all I had to do was take my pack and go up to the roof of the building. She told me to think about everything she said while I was on my way up to her, and that she would be waiting for me. If I decided to go through with it, she said she would throw me into Sin from the top of the building."  
"There's more, isn't there?" he asked in fearful resignation.  
"I had already made my decision. When the time came, I said 'Yes'. She told me to close my eyes. As soon as I did, she put her arms around me. Auron, her touch was like ice. She kicked off from the top of the building. I remember thinking at the time how strong she was, that she was much stronger than any normal woman her size, because she propelled us much farther than should ever have been possible from just that one kick. And you know, she seemed to be holding me with more, I don't know, appendages than just two arms. It was just weird, but by then, everything was a nightmare."  
She leaned over, kissed him softly, and whispered, "I love you."  
He answered back, the only words possible, the deepest truth of his heart. "I love you, too, my lady." But that same heart was pounding in his chest as she kept her eyes locked on his.

"We pierced Sin's watery shell. Shiva had warned me, that, when that happened…I would die." His eye closed for a second, in shock, and he forced himself to open it and keep focusing on her while his breath froze in his body. He had to hear every word she said, he had to understand. He had to. "She told me that if I could hold my spirit, my soul, intact through the maelstrom, I could ride Sin back to Spira. But I had to stay, hidden, inside Sin, until you passed your trial. After that, they promised that they would 'pull me out', and land me in Spira ahead of you." She laughed, a strained, bitter sound. "Then, it was supposed to be simple; I just had to survive in human form until we found each other." She choked on unshed tears. "But for three months, I rode Sin in the belly of a beast…my soul hidden from everyone, even the poor beast itself. It was a coeurl. I saw once, through its eyes, its reflection in the Sea of Sorrows. It had turned black, with crimson whiskers. Finally, three sennights ago, I found myself here."  
His face was white in the moonlight. And she was frightened now, afraid he would reject her, but it was too late to turn back, or to leave the story unfinished, especially so near its end.  
"Auron, I thought it was the only sure way, so I took it. I believed in your word a lot more than I believed I could reach your Farplane on my own. Love, I am like you now. I am unsent."  
Anger, fear, awe roiled through him simultaneously. He clasped her tightly in his arms, mostly to keep himself from shaking her until her teeth rattled. If either of them had failed, her spirit would have been lost.  
"Why did the fayth do this for you?" he finally asked.  
_Auron, sometimes, you truly are a fool._ As she looked into his face her expression held both total love, and complete exasperation, and she said, "Love, they didn't do this for me. They did it for you."

End Chapter Twenty-Five


	26. This Is It

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The title of this chapter is from a song written by Kenny Loggins and Michael McDonald and performed by Kenny Loggins. I was listening to this on CD and I realized that this was the right song for this chapter. Part of the lyrics are, "For once in your life, here's your miracle. Stand up and fight."

_

* * *

I am no one, _Auron thought_. I was just one more nameless guardian. A wasted sacrifice. If the fayth wished to perform a miracle for someone, they should have saved Braska._

He shook his head. "I do not understand. Why would the fayth do this? What could I mean to them?" He was clearly puzzled by her words.  
"Hope," she said softly. "Auron, what you meant to the fayth, was hope."  
He shook his head. "I am still…confused," he confessed.  
"Shiva told me," she continued, as she stroked his cheek with her hand, brushed the stray hair away gently, "that the fayth see everything that happens in the Dome, through the pyreflies. They saw you, ten years ago. She said that you not only told Braska that you thought there must be another way, but…the fayth saw the fire of your conviction." She brushed her thumb over his lips, and then rested her hand on his chest. "They saw into your heart. They were certain that you weren't just saying empty words, but that you believed those words in your soul. And they saw that, because you believed, your belief reached into Jecht's heart, too, and even though he had agreed to become Braska's fayth, he also somehow agreed to help you as well. Your faith, your trust in each other, your sincerity," her lips turned up in a small smile, "and maybe, just a little bit of your desperation," she added slyly, "roused them from their mental stupor. The fayth are tired. So very tired. They want the dreaming to end. But apparently until you started shouting the roof down, no one had ever even suggested that there might be another way."

"Shouting the roof down?" he echoed teasingly. "I did no such thing. And I doubt that any of the fayth would have so labeled my behavior, even if I had." He pulled her close for a moment, resting his cheek on her head.  
"Shiva said that you were 'disrespectful' of the traditions. And that you were passionate in your certainty that there had to be another way. So convincing, that you overturned almost a thousand years of unquestioned acquiescence on the part of the fayth. I'll bet you were shouting." She lifted her head to look into his face. "I'll find out for certain tomorrow, won't I?"  
"Yes. I believe so," he answered, closing his eye. "You will see…everything. Tomorrow." He opened his eye again, cupped the side of her face with his hand. "There's more, isn't there?"  
She nodded. "The fayth heard you promise Jecht…that you would go to his Zanarkand. You gave him your word, believing it to be an impossible task. Shiva said that even they didn't know how you would fulfill your oath, but that when you rode Sin to the dream Zanarkand, they understood, not only that you had kept your word, but the lengths that you were capable of going to in order to do so."  
He placed his fingers on her lips to stop her for a moment. "But I failed to keep my word to Braska. I did not take Yuna from Bevelle to Besaid, as I promised him."  
"Auron, the fayth did not witness your promise to Braska. But, you did fulfill it. You did see that Yuna was taken from Bevelle to Besaid." She hesitated, then continued, "I think that taking Yuna to Besaid, and staying with her…from what you told me, and seeing them here, now…may have helped Kimahri as much as it did Yuna. Your promise was only to take Yuna, not to stay with her. You would have done your duty…and left, to find a way to Zanarkand. Kimahri was able to stay. Would you please try to be fair to yourself for once? Maybe you got lucky, but sending Kimahri really was the right thing to do." She placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

"The fayth believed that you and Jecht were working on some plan to defeat Yu Yevon. They did not know if your plan would ultimately succeed or fail. For them, what was important was that you had shown them that it was even possible to try. Shiva told me that the fayth have also been working on a plan to help, but that it was not 'my part of the story'. According to the fayth, you," she poked her finger into his sternum, "are my part in this story. Literally."

He raised an eyebrow at her, asking his question without words. She searched for an answer, then awkwardly began, "I'm not quite sure how to put this. It ends up being rather embarrassing. The fayth seem to have decided that what you had done was worthy of some kind of reward. So, after you arrived in my Zanarkand, they watched you, very, very carefully, and tried to figure out what they could do to 'help' you." She went completely silent for several heartbeats, then her expression turned self-mocking. "You never told me that the fayth had a sense of humor. Apparently, they decided that I might be the answer to your prayers, even if you didn't know it." She had to laugh a little bit, even if part of the joke seemed to be on her. She raised her hand to caress his face, to trace his lips with her fingers. He kissed her palm.

"You were. I just didn't know," he whispered. "I was not…praying…at all. I never had any such intentions." He brushed his knuckles against her cheek gently. "You know, my lady, that I would never complain about their choice…" he essayed with a brief smile.  
"Not unless you want to wake up some night with my sword at your throat," she replied, grinning in reply. He knew she wasn't serious…not exactly serious.  
"But did the fayth explain why they chose you?" he finished.  
"C'mon, love. You know how curious I am. Of course I asked. It didn't do me any good. Shiva just smiled mysteriously and said that they had thought we would suit each other, and that events had proven them right. But I've had plenty of time to think about it. And I think…" she stopped suddenly in mid-sentence.  
"What do you think?" he asked cautiously.  
"I think they chose me, because of a lot of things. I know that I needed to believe you. Your story answered the biggest question in my life. Sin took my parents. Even after more than twenty years, I still needed to have that answer." A tear trickled down her cheek, and he kissed it away.  
She sniffled, and went on. "We were both equally wounded inside, so I wasn't looking for anyone, any more than you were. I wasn't likely to find someone else while they were waiting for you to figure things out."  
"And that was just the first test." he sounded a little surprised. "At the time, I thought it was the only one. I dreamed of Yojimbo that night, informing me that I had passed the trial. He did not mention any subsequent 'tests'."

"But Shiva did," his wife replied, stunning him.  
"You saw her…in Zanarkand…then?" he asked in shock.  
"It sounds like the same night. We…talked. In a dream, just as you apparently did with Yojimbo. She told me that I had passed the first trial, clearly implying at least a second. The second was when I refused Lady Belina. Then she just appeared in the middle of the hallway. She…stopped time…for everyone but me, and said I had passed the second trial, and that we would meet again, she and I. Then she was gone. We met again the night Sin came." The expression on his face made her next words freeze in her throat.

He looked as though she had betrayed him in some way. "Why didn't you tell me any of this before?"  
She shook her head. "The first time, I thought it was just a dream. A figment of my imagination. The second time, I had just made too many decisions for too many people, and I wasn't sure if I had done the right thing. I was afraid that I had conjured it all up, just to convince myself that I was right." She hung her head. "I'm sorry." She looked up and stared at him accusingly. "But why didn't you tell me? You knew Yojimbo was for real."

It was his turn to feel ashamed of his actions. "Yojimbo asked me if I wanted anything from him. I…begged him to let you reach the Farplane." She gasped as he continued, "Now that I recall his answer, I see that, although it was essentially affirmative, it was open to a certain amount of 'interpretation'. At the time, I only heard the affirmative, and did not hear the…subtleties. That was my error, and it has caused me a great deal of grief, and pain, these past four months. But at the time, I could not tell you, because you did not believe in the Farplane." He watched a sad expression cross her features. "I see that you still do not, but it no longer matters. Now that you are here on Spira, we can find a Summoner when we wish to be sent. It seems that the fayth may have foreseen this possibility from the very beginning," he concluded.  
"I think so, too," she answered back. Her face took on a slightly amused expression. "I think the fayth were looking for someone strong-willed, or strong-minded enough, to survive this little…journey of theirs, just in case we made it this far." His eyebrow shot up. Those were certainly terms that could be used to describe his wife. Tenacious also came to mind. Along with quite a few words that were considerably less polite, but much more accurate…and rather dangerous for him to say, in the present circumstances. She grinned at him suddenly. "Or possibly, they were simply looking for someone stubborn enough to put up with you!" His face turned mutinous and she started to laugh softly. Then his lips quirked up in an answering smile of his own, and he started to chuckle, too. They wrapped their arms around each other, and she felt the rumble of it, deep in his chest, under her ear. It felt good, it felt…right. It felt like coming home.

He drew back his head to look at her again. He had one last set of questions. "Why these…trials? Was it necessary for them to make things so…difficult?"  
"I was afraid you would ask that," she replied, lowering her eyes. _And I wish I didn't have to tell you_, she thought. _In these circumstances, if asked,_ _most men would want a compliant, blonde nymphomaniac with 'breasts of doom', not a forty-five-year-old woman with silver in her hair and a few lines on her face. Poor love, the fayth decided for you._ "Shiva told me that the fayth had decided that, and I quote, 'you would not appreciate the gift if it came too readily to your hand', end quote." Her voice dropped to a throaty purr as she gave him a sultry look through her lashes. "I've never been anyone's 'present' before. You'll have to tell me, Auron. Have I been a good 'present', or a bad 'present'? As she spoke, her fingers trailed down along his spine, until she splayed her hand over the curve of his butt, and held on tight, using the pressure of her hand to pull her body close against his.

His blood had gone south, and had taken most of his brain along for the ride. But not all. . He searched her face, and saw doubt shadowing her eyes. _She is afraid_, he realized. _Of what? She must know how much I want her, especially right now. It's certainly obvious enough. For pity's sake, woman, make up your mind whether you are seducing me or not, before I do go mad. What do you need me to say?_ Stalling for time, he held her face still, and kissed her deeply. _I have felt more in past few hours…then I have in the past four months_, he realized, _because she is here. Perhaps that is all I need to say_. He stared into her eyes, and told her, "That I am unsent does not matter. I was dead until you came into my life. I died again when I left you in Zanarkand. And now, I am alive again, because you are here." He saw the shadow lift from her eyes, and knew that what he had said had indeed been enough, so he continued in a different tone, as his own smile turned into a wicked grin. "Now," he said in a huskier voice, as his own hand dropped to caress her bottom, "would you consider being a 'bad' present for a while?"

"Mmm," she purred. Then she threw her leg over his hip, and he let her roll him onto his back. She straddled him, staying just in the right position to tease him unmercifully. He tried to raise his head but let it fall back down when she leaned forward, her hands flat on his shoulders, and began to rub her hot, wet sex up and down along his shaft. This was sheer torment, and his eye rolled back into his head as he groaned. She leaned all the way over him, kissing him like she wanted to make sure he'd still be drunk with it the next morning. When her lips left his, he reached out, wrapped his hands around her hips, took control, shifted her into the right position, slid inside her, and was…home.

Much later, they lay together in a tumbled heap of bedding. Her head was pillowed in the hollow of his shoulder, as he held her close against his side. She pressed a kiss into his skin; on a bite mark she had left some time earlier. "You've realized, by now, haven't you, love, that I don't need any more sleep than you do?" Her words were a little slurred. She seemed to have finally run out of energy.

He sounded very amused, and very pleased with himself, when he answered, "That does seem to be one of the advantages. I also noticed that we managed to find a way to fill the time." She felt his chuckle, under her ear, as much as she heard it. Then she was asleep.

_You are new at this, my lady_, he mused, as he brushed a kiss into her hair. _And you have had a rather trying day. Some of it my…fault. I think you still need a little more sleep than I. My lady. My…gift_. As he drifted into the first peaceful sleep he had known since they had been apart, the thought echoed in his mind. _She is…a gift of the fayth. One I do not deserve, but at least have the wit not to refuse. Even I am not that big a fool. I love her far too much to ever let her go_. _I just hope I can manage not to drive her away_.

Mercy woke in the pre-dawn darkness, with a smile on her face. She felt the unconscious weight of her husband's arm over her, and heard the slow, steady pace of his breath, and was sure that he still slept. Sometime during the short night they had spooned tightly together, and she woke luxuriating in the touch of his skin against hers, his chest against her back, his thighs tucked behind hers, his morning erection nestled firmly between her butt cheeks. _I wonder if we have time to do anything about that_, she thought wickedly. _Probably not_, she decided, with considerable disappointment.  
He stirred a little, and his hand moved from her midriff to her breast, as his breath quickened. "Good morning, my lady," he murmured sleepily as he began to drop feather-light kisses on the back of her neck.  
"Morning," she sighed. "Shouldn't we be getting up about now?" she asked softly as she cuddled closer, her actions in direct conflict with her dutiful words.  
"Lady," he whispered, his breath warm in her ear, "I am up." She could hear the smile in his voice; feel the corners of his mouth turn up with it as he trailed kisses along her shoulder.  
She wound her arm back around his neck, tilting her head to kiss him. "Do we have time?" she asked.  
"No. But we will make time," he stated with decision, as he turned her onto her back with ease.  
She rose on her elbows, clearly intending to get up and get dressed. "Then we should…"  
He caught her face between his hands and held her still. "Do not worry. Tidus will think of something to tell the others if it becomes necessary." She blinked at him in astonishment, and he laughed. "He owes it to me." Then he captured her mouth with his, and drugged her thoughts with kisses as he pulled her down with him onto their makeshift bed. He held her jaw as he stared into her eyes, now hazy with desire, and thought, _Stolen time_. _Not enough. Never enough. But all we have ever had. Make every second count_. He traced the outline of her body with his hand, the fullness of her breast, the dip of her waist, the curve of her hip, as he raised himself over her and plunged deep inside her and they raced each other to bring the dawn.

But the peace between them turned out to be more delicate than either of them had expected. As they packed up the last traces of their tiny camp, Mercy shattered it with a single question. "Auron, what have you told them about what they will face in the Dome?"  
His heart sank as he shouldered his pack. "Nothing," he answered stolidly, and waited for the storm to hit him.  
She stared at him, hard. "You've got to be joking."  
"No, I am not. They do not know what lies ahead. I thought it was better if they saw it for themselves."  
She wanted to scream at him, but knew if she did, it would bring the others racing around the hill. "What do you think you're doing, Auron? Playing…God?" she hissed, angry now. "I thought the whole point was to make sure Yuna didn't take the Final Aeon. How can she make the right choice if she doesn't know the whole truth?"  
He answered with equal fire, but kept his voice was low and harsh. "I know the Final Aeon is the wrong answer. But I do not know the right answer."  
"So tell Yuna what you do know, and let her decide."  
"I cannot." He shook his head. "You do not understand."  
"Well you'd better make me understand, and fast, or I'll tell her myself," she spat back.  
"No, do not. I beg you. It would be as if I did so myself," he pleaded.  
"Then explain it to me." She practically bit off each word, each syllable in anger and frustration.

"If I must," he said in resignation. "You heard them, yesterday, address me as 'Sir Auron'. I said nothing of this in your Zanarkand…because…it means nothing to me…but here…in Spira…they consider me a 'legend'." His voice was bitter. "I 'survived' Braska's pilgrimage. No one knows the last time a Guardian 'lived' to see the Calm brought by his own summoner." He placed his hand on her arm, as if to restrain her, or at least to hold her attention. "Yuna has grown stronger on this journey, but she still wishes to please those close to her when she can. When I speak, she hears the echo of her father's voice." Mercy closed her eyes for a moment in understanding of that, at least. "And my words carry weight of their own, deserved or not, because of the damned…legend attached to my name. I fear that if I told her what I know, her decision might be…altered into what she thought I wanted, instead of what she believed was right." He released her arm and started to turn away, but she grabbed his hand and stopped him. "And I do know not for certain what is right," he choked out. "The Final Aeon is wrong. But I believe there is more to the solution than that. You said that the fayth were planning something, but that it was not your part of the story. Nor is it mine. It may be Tidus' or Yuna's, but I do not know. I decided that I would rather…she made her own choice, with no regrets, and have it be the wrong one, than influence her into something that I was not certain of. Even if she chooses the Final Aeon, we should be able to salvage something from this."

"Auron, you know what I found in my research," she reminded him ominously.  
"I know. But from what I understood of it, ten years will not make much of a difference," he responded gravely. "Will you…trust me?" he finally asked, staring into her face.  
She stared back. _That's what it's about, after all_, she realized. _This is his world, his call_. She took a half step forward, and slid her arms around his waist. "Yes. I trust you." She felt his whole body relax as he clasped his arms around her and dragged her close.

Back at the main camp, Yuna announced, "I wish to make Lady Mercy one of my guardians."  
Tidus jumped on the idea. "Whoa! That's so cool. I can't wait 'til you ask her."  
Lulu responded archly. "I'm not certain that is a good idea. She has already proven to be a…distraction for Sir Auron. He is rather late this morning. And he may feel the need to protect her, rather than his summoner. What then?"  
Wakka couldn't believe that Lulu could be that cold. "But Lu, what are we supposed to do, just leave her here?"  
Tidus was dismissive. "Don't worry, no one will have to protect Mercy. She can protect herself. No problem. She's been here the whole time we've been journeying, remember?"  
Lulu countered, "Then it shouldn't be a problem to leave her here while we visit Lady Yunalesca. There is no need to make her a guardian."  
Rikku turned on Lulu, "That's so unfair. You think he's going to leave her out here and not be distracted, worrying about her?"  
"That is enough." Yuna's words dropped into the sudden silence. "It is my decision, and it is what I wish. It is…the right thing to do. For Sir Auron."  
Kimahri's sharp hearing caught the sound of boots pacing on the sandy soil before the others. "They return."

But they had stopped, just before they became visible around the side of the hill. "Mercy," he whispered, low, urgent, and caught her hand. She turned her face to meet his. The stern expression he had been wearing a few minutes previously was gone, and she saw his love for her written clearly across his features. She smiled, as he brought her close for one last, hard kiss. "My lady, I love you."  
"I love you, too," she replied, her hand on his cheek. "I love you, too."  
He released her, and she saw what she was beginning to think of as his 'Sir Auron' mask slip back into place. They walked around the final bend, and faced the rest of the party, waiting expectantly for their arrival.

Yuna stepped forward, and bowed respectfully to Mercy. "Lady Mercy, I would like to request that you become one of my guardians. Do you accept?" The younger woman stood, her hands twisted together in a way that betrayed her nervous anticipation.  
"Yuna, I would be honored to accept, but I have one condition," Mercy replied, smiling at Yuna.  
"Anything you wish," the younger woman replied anxiously.  
"Please, just call me Mercy, all of you. I have never claimed to be a lady." She caught her husband's eye as she made this statement, and saw a smile in his eye, and one corner of his mouth lifted slightly, involuntarily, before he schooled his features back to stillness. _Masks have holes_, she thought to herself.  
"We will," Yuna promised, "won't we, everyone?" she finished, looking around at the others, who all nodded their assent with varying degrees of willingness, slight discomfort on Wakka's part, or thinly veiled hostility on Lulu's.  
"Then I accept," Mercy responded, and took the younger woman's hands in hers. "I promise I will guard you faithfully, and well." The two women looked solemnly into each other's eyes for a long moment, the shaky beginnings of a bond forming between them.

Everyone else had already eaten; so Mercy and Auron were forced to grab something they could consume as they walked. _Trail rations, again_, Mercy noted disparagingly, as she ate. The first fiends they encountered were Ahrimans and Grendels, not serious contests, but enough for Mercy to prove that she was as adept with her swords as any of the other fighters in the party were with their particular weapons. When the first Behemoth challenged them, Tidus decided it was time to let the others, but especially Lulu, see Mercy fight with Auron alone.

Whatever Lulu's objections, Tidus thought one demonstration would take care of most of them. He sure knew Mercy could fight. He'd watched once, when he was a kid, from outside the windows of Auron's dojo, when one of Auron's classes had gotten way out of hand. It had been a class of seniors, seventeen and eighteen year olds, big guys, some Auron's size, and it had been spring and they just plain didn't want to be there. More than a dozen of them, and they decided to all take Auron on at once. Mercy was in the back of the room, warming up, and he remembered that she'd just watched, until this one guy got the bright idea to get on a bench and pull one of the swords off the wall. Mercy had tackled that one and brought him down, fast, before he even got close to any of the weapons. Some of his buddies went after her, and everything got pretty crazy after that. She and Auron had fought towards each other, and then back-to-back, covering for each other, until the class was on the floor, whining and moaning. She'd told him later that she would have stayed out of it, until that idiot went for the blade. She said that once one did, the rest would, then Auron would have had to, and then there would probably have been blood on the floor, and Auron would have been held responsible.

Tidus told the others to, "Just watch," as the two older guardians faced the Behemoth. Yuna took up a position where she could heal them, if necessary, but Tidus really didn't think the Behemoth was going to get much of a chance.  
She and Auron had fought like this so often, that they didn't even need to look to know where the other was. They had complete trust in each other, to the point where Auron trusted Mercy to cover his blind side in a fight without question or hesitation. He knew she would be where he needed her to be, and she knew the same about him. The Behemoth got in one swipe, but Mercy dodged, and it didn't last long enough for a second try. The others watched in admiration, or, on Lulu's part, silence.

The party had to fight their way through the ruined streets of what had once been Zanarkand. When they stopped for a moment to rest, they looked into the distance. Thousands, maybe even millions of pyreflies were gathered. Wakka commented, "Looks like the Farplane."  
Auron replied laconically, "Close enough."  
Mercy found herself standing next to Tidus. "But it doesn't look much like home, does it?" she asked, as she let her head rest against his shoulder for a moment. He could hear the weary sadness clear in her voice.  
"It was hard, wasn't it, being here, knowing how it used to be?" he asked softly in return. His question was all the answer she needed.  
She straightened, and looked into his eyes. Something she saw there made her ask, "You know, don't you? You know this wasn't…exactly…our Zanarkand?"  
"Yeah. I know," he whispered. "But it's close enough. It hurts to see it like this."  
She stared at the spot where she knew their apartment building would have stood, and had to blink back tears. "Yes. It hurts." Then she felt Auron's hand in the small of her back, and he turned to see what she was studying so intently. For a moment, he stood frozen, then their eyes met, and she saw the lines of pain around his mouth, saw that he remembered, and understood.  
He held her against his side all too briefly, then rasped, "We must move on."  
"No," she replied shakily. "It's all right. I understand. And it's better if we don't linger. Let's go."

When they finally reached the entrance to what had once been the Blitzball stadium, an old man in priestly robes greeted them. "Journeyer of the long road, name yourself."  
"I am the summoner Yuna. I have come from the island of Besaid," Yuna replied.  
The old man approached Yuna closely. "Your eyes, my dear. Show me the long road you have traveled…Very good…You have journeyed well…Lady Yunalesca will surely welcome your arrival…Go to her now, and bring your guardians with you. Go."  
Mercy watched as Yuna serenely stepped through the doorway of the shattered stadium. It was clear to her that the younger woman was composed and more than ready to face the fate that she believed waited for her inside. But Mercy still hung back as the rest followed their summoner, postponing the moment when she, too would have to step through the open gates. Auron came up beside her, looked down into her troubled face, and placed his hand reassuringly on the curve of her spine.  
Her eyes still fixed on Yuna, she asked in a strained voice, "How can she be so…composed? How can she sacrifice herself so calmly in cold blood? I just don't get it. In the heat of battle, yes, I would do it without thought, to save any of them."  
"As would I," he interrupted.  
"Yes, exactly. I could give myself even, if I thought the sacrifice was worth it, but I would be looking for a way out every second. I don't understand this…blind acceptance. It makes no sense. But she is willing, almost eager, it seems, to lay down her life." Mercy's hands balled into fists at her sides.  
"I know," Auron replied, slowly, thoughtfully. "Braska, her father, was the same at this point. He had accepted his fate. It was I who was not prepared." He stared at the ground. Nor am I now," he admitted sadly.  
She let her hand rest on his back for a moment, and looked up at him. "What shall we do, then?" she asked him quietly.  
"What you told me the fayth are doing," he answered wryly. "Hope." A brief smile tugged at his lips. "If you can manage it, you might even try praying."  
"Well, if those are your only suggestions, I guess I'll just have to...think of something," she responded with a slight grin.  
"Better do it quickly," he said, a raised eyebrow his only response to her grin. "Everyone is waiting," he finished.  
Auron and Mercy walked through the broken doors to the great Zanarkand Blitzball Stadium side by side. As she passed through the vast portal, Mercy held her hand behind her back...and crossed her fingers.

End Chapter Twenty-Six


	27. Love is a Battlefield

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The title of this chapter is from a song performed by Pat Benatar

* * *

After the party entered the old stadium, they paused just inside, to gaze in awe and wonder at the shattered glory that surrounded them. But not all. As they stood on the circular platform, Tidus' blue eyes met Mercy's brown ones, both glistening with unshed tears. They exchanged a long look, shared grief for the beauty that had once stood in this place, wrecked now beyond repair, almost even beyond recognition. She tried to catch Auron's eye as well, and found that he had turned his back to the others. As she moved to stand beside him, she saw that his eye was shut tight, his jaw locked, and his hands were clenched on the crumbled railing in front of him. 

"What are you waiting for?" she whispered, leaning back to see his expression out of the corner of her eye, while still facing into the platform's center.  
Before he had a chance to answer, two specters formed in the center of the circle, young women in Crusaders' uniforms, shaped out of pyreflies, and air. As Rikku fell to her knees, shivering with fright, one of the ghosts' voices rang hollowly in the stillness. "If it might benefit the future of Spira, I will gladly give my life. It is the highest honor for which a guardian might ask. Use my life, Lady Yocun, and rid Spira of Sin." Then, as instantly as they had appeared, the phantoms vanished.  
Still cowering, Rikku asked in a quavering voice, "What…what was that?"  
Auron had kept his back turned during the entire scene, but he supplied the answer. "Our predecessors." _You knew that was coming, didn't you_, his wife realized. _You were waiting for it. You just…didn't want to see it again. I wonder why?_  
Lulu cried out, "She said 'Lady Yocun,' didn't she? Wait! She guarded High Summoner Yocun?" Mercy found herself wondering what exactly it was about Lady Yocun's guardian that Lulu found so surprising. That she was female, that she was a female Crusader, that she was the only guardian who survived this far, that both women seemed so young, or if it was something else altogether. _Not that Lulu is ever likely to confide such a thing to me_, she reflected.  
Auron finally turned around to face the others. Only Mercy saw the lingering tightness around his mouth that indicated the strain that he was under at this moment. "This dome is filled with pyreflies," he explained. It's like one gigantic sphere. People's thoughts remain here. Forever." His jaw snapped shut on the final syllable, clearly indicating that he would not reopen the subject. He remained immobile as the rest of the party began to move on. She stayed beside him, her shoulder brushing against his arm.  
"Her name was Miyoshi," he whispered, mostly to himself. "Yocun's guardian. Guardians' names are not recorded, but…Jecht told me her name. Miyoshi. Once we are gone, no one else will remember her."  
"But they remember you," she whispered back.  
"Only because I 'survived'," he responded bitterly. "You saw Miyoshi's fate."  
"She was Yocun's fayth," Mercy replied, understanding dawning, "so she…"  
"Yes." He looked up, and saw the others ahead of them. "Come, we must rejoin the rest." She nodded in reply.

Further inside the ruins, they came across another scene, as clear as if they were witnessing events that were occurring in the present, and not merely echoes of the past. But this echo caused more questions than it did answers. A boy, with jagged blue hair, still young enough to wipe his eyes with the ends of his sleeves when he cried, and a woman, wincing in pain as she talked to him.  
"No! Mother, no!" the boy wailed. "I don't want you to become a fayth!"  
But his mother's will was adamant, even if her flesh was failing. "There is no other way. Use me and defeat Sin. Only then will the people accept you."  
The boy was still crying. "I don't care about them! I need you, Mother! No one else!"  
"I don't…have much time left," she said, grimacing as some internal spasm gripped her.  
After the specters vanished, they all stared at each other in stunned amazement. Wakka was the first to speak. "Hey, wasn't that…?"  
Rikku finished for him. "Seymour?"  
"Just a second," Mercy interrupted. "That was Seymour? I've never seen a Guado before, but…he was still a child. This just doesn't make sense."  
"That image was recorded twenty years ago," Auron answered. "Seymour is no longer a child, I assure you."  
"But what did she expect? That her baby would run out and defeat Sin, and die right then and there? Was she unhinged or something?" Mercy cried.  
"I do not know." Auron replied calmly. "She was dying. Braska was an apprentice then, and he heard something of it from his teachers. She had some wasting disease…and the temples could not save her. They tried. But I fear that being granted such a powerful aeon so young may have been what 'unhinged' Seymour, as you put it."  
Mercy shuddered. "That's if just bringing him here and watching his mother turn into a fayth didn't do the job all by itself."  
"You are right. That…certainly could not have helped matters," Auron agreed.  
Tidus, watching and listening to the two older guardians, couldn't help but think, _Cool! I forgot about this. Mercy makes the old man talk. He says all sorts of interesting and useful stuff, once she gets him going. Looks like Yuna and Rikku are hanging on every word, but Lulu's face would spoil milk, if we had any. What's up with her?_

As they crossed single file over a narrow bridge, more like a girder that had fallen to span what would otherwise be a break in the road, Mercy felt a cold chill run up her spine, and saw the ghostly figures of three men run through her body, passing through the entire party as though they were not even there. _We weren't here, ten years ago_, her mind stuttered, as she recognized Jecht first. _He looks… almost exactly as I remember him. That face was everywhere, when he disappeared._  
"Hey, Braska. You don't have to do this," Jecht said. It sounded like an old argument. _Well_, Mercy thought, _at least he sounded sober. Finally_.  
"Thank you for your concern," answered the man with the gentle voice in the strange headdress and long, red and gray robes. _So that was Braska. From Auron's descriptions, I always though he must have been the oldest of them, but seeing them together, he clearly wasn't. In that, as in everything else, he was the middle…the balance_.  
"Fine. I said my piece," Jecht stated, with an air of finality, as he crossed his arms over his chest and jerked his head in a sharp nod.  
"Well, I haven't!" Auron cried out. "Lord Braska, let us go back! I don't want to see you…die!" _Lords and Ladies, he was so young_, her heart broke for him. _Just a boy, as he always claimed. Headstrong, passionate, naïve, proud, and with his illusions still intact_. Tears spilled down her face. In the present, Auron turned his back to the scene. He had lived this. He had no need to see it again…it was already etched in his soul. Mercy rested her head against his arm.  
Braska's response was still gentle. "You knew this was to happen, my friend."  
Auron's was pure pain. "Yes, but I…I cannot accept it."  
Mercy lifted her head to look up into his anguished face, still turned away from the others. _You still cannot_, she mourned for him, as raised her hands across his chest and wrapped her hands around his bare left hand, flesh to flesh, and held on, until he returned her grip, hard and tight, both his eye sockets squeezed shut against the agony as he heard Braska's voice echo from the past, "Auron, I am honored that you care for me so. But I have come to kill grief itself. I will defeat Sin, and lift the veil of sorrow covering Spira. Please understand, Auron."  
Only Mercy heard Auron's hoarse breath, "I am sorry, Braska. I never understood." He bowed his head in grief.

They trudged on through the wrecked and rubble-strewn corridors, fighting fiends every step of the way. They stopped for a rest break, and a cold meal, in the long corridor that Auron finally admitted led to the Trials. Mercy and Tidus poked around the area they had cleared, carrying on a desultory conversation while they both tried to guess what function this area of the stadium had served in its glory days. The building had gone so completely to wrack and ruin, that even Tidus could not say for certain which section they were in. But as Mercy examined the patterns on the walls in search of clues, she found that one of the decorative wall panels was loose, and it swung down, still attached by one corner, but revealing an open niche in the wall behind in. Light struck metal inside the recess, and Mercy's curiosity got the better of her. She reached in with both hands, and extracted the shards of two swords, two hilts, the wrappings mostly decayed, the tangs covered in rust, the broken metal of two shattered blades. Auron raised an eyebrow at her as she returned to her pack and extracted an old shirt, then returned and carefully scooped up the old weapons. She caught his eye as she placed the whole mess in her pack, and shrugged.

Just before they descended the stairs to the Trials, they saw Jecht, Braska, and Auron standing in the same spot. Jecht asked Braska, "Are the Trials ahead?"  
And Braska replied, a small smile on his lips, "Probably."  
"Here too, huh? Gimme a break." Jecht sounded disappointed. "I was expecting, you know, parades, and…fireworks!" he almost laughed, as he gestured expansively.  
Braska actually did laugh softly. "You can ask for them after I defeat Sin."

Mercy stared, as one of the puzzle pieces finally, finally fell into place for her. _I never understood until just now_, she realized, _because I forgot this. I just couldn't understand how Auron could form such a tight bond with someone like Jecht. Not the Jecht I remembered, anyway. But this man, this I understand. It all came back to him. The easy warmth, the brash charm, that was the Jecht that everyone loved, when he started out, twenty, twenty-five years ago. Before he turned arrogant, and then saw the years slipping by, and started to drink it all away. This charming rogue Jecht, battered and broken, but clean and sober and reckless and daring, matched with Braska's pure spirit and delicious sense of irony, and Auron's pure heart and youthful idealism. Now I see it. What a band of brothers they made!_ Shaking herself out of her reverie, she cast her gaze at the others, the others who were intimately linked to these shadows from the past. Yuna stood straight and proud, her love and admiration for her father and his guardians clear on her face. Rikku watched Braska with wide eyes, clearly fascinated with this glimpse of the uncle she did not remember meeting. But Tidus stood with his arms folded across his chest; defending himself against feeling anything other than the hatred he had carried for his father nearly all his life. And Auron stared at the ground, refusing to watch the past unfold again. Mercy looked at her husband, with his gaze fixed on his boots, and grieved, _you cannot bear to watch them, can you, love? You miss them too much to even look at them now. You left part of your heart behind. I wish…I wish there was something I could do_. In her heart, she cried for him.

As they took turns pacing through the multitude of puzzles that represented the Trials of Zanarkand, Mercy asked Auron. "Are the Trials always this boring?"  
"Yes," he answered impatiently. "Now leave me be, woman. I need to think," he finished harshly. He was trying to remember every detail of his last battle with the Spectral Keeper, a fiend they would face as soon as they completed the Trials. One detail he simply did not know, because this party was so much larger. _Best to be cautious_, he decided, as he planned the encounter in his mind, not paying attention to the direction his wife had gone.  
Mercy muttered, "Be that way," and stalked off to join Tidus. She jerked a thumb in Auron's direction. "He do that often?"  
"Yeah," the young man answered, "but not so much since you got here. He missed you."  
She shrugged. "Not right now."

Rikku brought the last puzzle piece back to complete the Trials, and they all returned to the main room, expecting a door to open, or an elevator to be revealed, leading to the Chamber of the Fayth. Instead, the Spectral Keeper greeted them. Auron started shouting battle orders, as he took the position right in front of the massive fiend. "Mercy, take the glyph two to my right, Yuna, two left. It sweeps with its tail, but its most powerful attack is with its pincers in front. Do not let it face you; the pincer attack will knock you out. Move if that happens. If the glyph you are standing on starts to glow, that means the glyph is mined and will explode. Move immediately. Tidus, Hastega."  
As she ran to her assigned position, Mercy thought, _Of course, he is their battle commander. Who else?_ Then she heard Lulu's voice break in, starting to question Auron's orders. "But, why…" the black mage began.  
Kimahri cut her off. "No questions. Enemy not wait for questions."  
Mercy settled into a fighting stance, centered herself into the calm that always came just before a battle began, then she felt the effects of Tidus' magic rev up her entire body, and the world around her slowed to a crawl. Rikku tap-danced over the platform to her right, twitched something from behind the monster's massive shoulder, and floated away. A white shield floated in the air in front of her, and then she saw the creature reach out with its talons to strike at Auron. She slashed at it, intending to distract it, hoping it would stretch out a limb he could hack at with his heavier sword. He cut into its right leg, and it swiped at him again. Auron fell to one knee momentarily. Yuna threw another shield in front of him. Mercy leapt up, driving at its eyes, distracting it again while Yuna healed Auron, she hoped. A tail sweep, and Yuna staggered, before getting her own airy shield in place. The fiend turned, and Mercy found herself looking directly into its eyes. "Move!" Auron yelled.  
She vaulted over its head, stabbing at its eyes again as she passed, finding ichor dripping on her long sword when she landed, knowing that she had scored. The Spectral Keeper howled in pain. Auron moved to the forward position again and took another attack from its forelegs. Yuna surprised them all by casting Flare on the creature, and it retaliated by sweeping both women with its tail. Mercy looked down, and saw that the glyph she was standing on was pulsing with light. The only open spots were almost directly in front of the enemy. She jumped. Auron took one look at the situation and gave his orders. "You, out. Wakka, in, now," and the fight continued.  
The fight ended with the Spectral Keeper dispersing in a cloud of pyreflies. Everyone spent the next few minutes either bent forward, or flopped on the floor, catching their breath and checking for wounds that hadn't been noticed in the heat of battle. "Enemy dead. Now is time for questions," Kimahri announced.  
"No, it is not," Auron stated. "We must move on. You either trust me, or you do not. If you wish to choose another tactician, you are free to do so. But do it now, not while a fiend is breathing down our necks."  
Wakka glanced around at the others, then spoke quickly, "No, Sir Auron. Everything's fine the way it is, ya. We don' want to change nothing right now. Lu's just getting nervous, that's all. Right, Lu?" he asked, looking anxiously at the black mage. She just stared back at him. "See, that's right. We're just getting kinda jumpy. Okay, Sir Auron?"  
Auron nodded. "In that case," he turned sharply to Rikku, "that was a very foolish stunt you pulled at the beginning. You are lucky that fiend didn't slap you to the ground right then. Do not try that again. Understood?"  
Rikku stared at the ground, and nodded meekly.  
The young Al Bhed was downcast as they moved toward the elevator in the center of the chamber. Mercy whispered in Rikku's ear, "You were too far forward. That's how he saw you. You need to be more to his right next time."  
Rikku looked into the older woman's eyes, and saw the mischief lighting them. "Oooh, so that was it. I wondered what went wrong. Thanks," she smiled in gratitude.  
"Don't mention it," Mercy replied, very softly. "Please, don't ever mention it." Rikku rolled her eyes, and giggled.

Auron stood with Yuna at the edge of the platform that would descend to the Chamber of the Fayth. "Yuna," he called to her, in a surprisingly gentle voice, "We're here."  
She met his gaze steadily. "The hall of the Final Summoning." _Is not quite what you imagine_, Mercy continued to herself.  
"Go," Auron directed the young summoner.  
"Yes," Yuna replied. Then she bowed her head and stepped onto the elevator.  
Yuna descended to the depths on the platform. As the interminable minutes stretched out, Mercy took advantage of Auron's distraction to ask, "What were you wracking your brain about earlier?"  
Without glancing away from the spot where the elevator would reappear, he replied, "Trying to remember if the damn fiend closed the circle behind us when it mined the glyphs."  
"Oh," she breathed. "But it didn't."  
"I don't think we tested it ten years ago," he answered, his concentration still fixed on Yuna and the absent platform. "There were only three of us. There was no need."

Then Jecht's voice shouted from the past, "What do you mean, no Final Aeon!" as Yuna returned to the surface and hurried them all onto the platform to descend with her to the Chamber of the Fayth. The open elevator was a tight squeeze for eight people, and Mercy found herself crowded close against Auron, her back against his chest, and, all too briefly, his hands on her waist. She clasped her own hands over his and squeezed gently, their embrace mostly concealed by the tight press of the party surrounding them.

Yuna knelt at the base of the statue, examining it carefully. The others arrayed themselves around the edge, watching her. "This isn't a fayth," she pronounced at last. "It's just an empty statue."  
The old priest appeared behind Yuna.  
"That statue lost its power as a fayth long ago," he intoned. "It is Lord Zaon, the first fayth of the Final Summoning. What you see before you is all that remains of him. Lord Zaon is... his soul is gone."  
Wakka was incredulous. "Gone!" he shouted.  
Rikku was even more disbelieving. "You mean, there is no Final Aeon?"  
Yunalesca's aide responded placidly to their outbursts, "But fear not. Lady Yunalesca will show you the path. The Final Aeon will be yours. The summoner and the Final Aeon will join powers. Go to her now. Inside, the lady awaits."  
He performed the prayer gesture, then vanished. Yuna walked toward where the wall used to be, to the barrier of blue-green energy that had appeared in its place.  
Tidus called out, "Yuna, wait!" then he turned to the older guardian. "Auron, you knew this was going to happen, didn't you?" Mercy was standing between the two of them, and she found herself pulling back, taking a step that brought her closer to Auron's side. She knew that her silent support was the only thing she could offer at this point. He had told her his reasons for not preparing them for this revelation, now he would have to reap what he had sown. But Tidus…his expression, his voice, his body language…were a study in contradictions. _It's like he can't make up his mind whether to be defiant or defensive, so he's about half and half_, she decided.  
Auron replied simply, "Yes."  
Rikku burst out, "Why didn't you tell us?"  
Auron was as impassive as ever. "If I had told you the truth, would that really have stopped you from coming?" But he did not address himself to Tidus, or to Rikku. His remark was addressed to Yuna, because to him, she was the one who mattered, now.

But Mercy watched the others as well. They had all trusted Auron, and she could tell by the expressions on their faces that that trust was now shaken. They would all still have come, he had been right about that. But in their minds, he had lied to them. A lie of omission was still a lie, especially if you were on the receiving end. They all felt betrayed. Tidus was taking it in stride; he seemed to have grown used to discovering that Auron had neglected to tell him something. But Wakka was clearly in shock, he had the look on his face of someone who has just discovered that his hero has feet of clay.  
Kimahri addressed himself to Yuna's back, as she had already turned toward the shining doorway. He just said her name, nothing more.  
Yuna responded to what she perceived as an unspoken question. "I'm not going back."  
Kimahri knew his summoner too well. "Kimahri knows. Kimahri goes first. Yuna is safe. Kimahri protect." _Auron really did get lucky when he chose Kimahri_, Mercy decided. _Kimahri could not love his own daughter more_.  
Then she watched in silence as Kimahri walked through the blue doorway first, followed by Yuna, then Auron. Mercy followed her husband, and heard the others' footsteps behind her.

The party entered a large, relatively intact, chamber, and found themselves facing a grand staircase. Auron and Mercy remained near the exit, while the others moved forward, Yuna leading, Kimahri faithfully guarding her. A woman appeared at the top of the stairs. As Yuna breathed the name, "Lady Yunalesca," with reverence, Mercy studied the form of the witch who had killed her husband. _How does she manage to look so regal wearing a metal filigree bra and a thong? And why does she choose to appear as a siren instead of a queen? Are most summoners and their guardians men? Does the bitch figure that they will be too busy looking at her tits to think about what she is saying? I suppose it's worked for a thousand years, why mess with success_, she conceded sarcastically.

Yunalesca addressed herself to her namesake with the prayer gesture. "Welcome to Zanarkand. I congratulate you, summoner. You have completed your pilgrimage. I will now bestow you with that which you seek. The Final Summoning...will be yours. Now, choose." She walked down the stairs, and swept her arm out in a gesture to indicate the members of Yuna's party. "You must choose the one whom I will change...to become the fayth of the Final Summoning." The entire party gasped in complete astonishment, except Auron and Mercy, standing silently together in the back of the room.

Yunalesca continued, undeterred by the brief interruption. "There must be a bond, between chosen and summoner, for that is what the Final Summoning embodies: the bond between husband and wife, mother and child, or between friends. If that bond is strong enough, its light will conquer Sin. A thousand years ago, I chose my husband Zaon as my fayth. Our bond was true, and I obtained the Final Aeon." Yunalesca went on, a note of pity in her voice. "There is nothing to fear. You will soon be freed of worry and pain. For once you call forth the Final Aeon, your life will end. Death is the ultimate and final liberation. Your father, Braska, chose this path."

As the lady floated away, she was replaced by the images of Braska, Jecht, and the young Auron, and the party watched the three men discuss the same decision that they now faced. Mercy viewed the replay of their debate with pain and with wonder. _It was the beginning of it all_, she knew. _Because of this, and what came after, we are all standing here now. Braska's daughter, and her friends, Jecht's son, Auron, and I. Because of this_.

"It is not too late! Let us turn back!" the young Auron cried. _Oh my love_, Mercy's heart cried, _you were shouting the roof down. It should have fallen for you_.  
"If I turn back, who will defeat Sin? Would you have some other summoner and his guardians go through this?" Braska asked, a surprising amount of steel in his usually patient voice.  
"But...my lord, there must be another way!" Auron pleaded. _That was what the fayth heard_, Mercy nodded to herself. _I can see it in his eyes, that he believed it must be possible. The bitch-queen did not fascinate him enough to overset his reason, or his love. Those five words, shouted with conviction, changed my life…and I didn't even know_, Mercy reflected.  
Jecht broke in, his voice a combination of resignation and determination. "This is the only way we got now! Fine. Make me the fayth. I been doing some thinking. My dream is back in the other Zanarkand. I wanted to make that runt into a star blitz player. Show him the view from the top, you know. But now I know there's no way home for me. I'm never going to see him again. My dream's never gonna come true. So make me the fayth. I'll fight Sin with you, Braska. Then maybe my life will have meaning, you know." _Damn you, Jecht. Your life did have meaning. Your wife. Your son! You threw it all away. Drank it away. But we made your dream come true for you. I hope you know that_, Mercy found herself wishing, suddenly, desperately.  
Auron still beseeching, now turned to the older man, "Don't do this, Jecht! If you live...there may be another way! We'll think of something, I know!" Mercy felt like her own heart was breaking. Tears were running down her face, but she was so caught up in the scene before her, the emotions that it evoked, that she wasn't even aware that she was crying._  
_Jecht's voice held only conviction now. "Believe me, I thought this through. Besides...I ain't gettin' any younger, so I might as well make myself useful." _Damn you, Jecht_, Mercy cursed silently. _You were a fool. There was plenty of use left in you_.  
Braska walked up to face the blitzer, and just said his name.  
"What! You're not gonna try to stop me, too?" Jecht replied, in his usual brash tones.  
"Sorry. I mean...thank you." Braska said quietly, overcome with gratitude.  
Jecht briefly placed his hands on Braska's shoulders in a gesture of solidarity, or possibly, reassurance. Then Jecht turned to Auron. "Braska still has to fight Sin, Auron. Guard him well. Make sure he gets there." He turned back to Braska. "Well, let's go." And Braska and Jecht began to walk away.  
Auron tried one last time, "Lord Braska! Jecht!"  
Jecht answered impatiently, "What do you want now?"  
Auron practically shouted his final argument. "Sin always comes back. It comes back after the Calm every time! The cycle will continue and your deaths will mean nothing!" _You were half-right, love. The cycle did continue, but their deaths…meant that we are all standing here, now. That may be something, after all._  
Braska responded in his usual patient manner. "But there's always a chance it won't come back this time. It's worth trying." _I never understood what the phrase 'patience of a saint' meant, until now_, Mercy realized. _Braska clearly had that much, and that kind, of patience_.  
Jecht sounded so sure of himself. "I understand what you're saying, Auron. I'll find a way to break the cycle." _You convinced the fayth, you caught at some piece of Jecht's heart, or his pride, and he went along with you, at least partway, and the fayth saw it_.  
Auron wanted to believe so badly; it was plain on his face. "You have a plan?"  
"Jecht?" Braska asked.  
But Jecht was just being cocky. "Trust me, I'll think of something." Then he laughed.  
Auron's ghost fell to his knees in grief, and despair. Mercy felt the man beside her stir, and tried to catch his arm as he moved, but was unable to stop him. She watched as he tried to expiate his guilt and his pain, by slicing at the forlorn figure of his younger self.

_Bonds_, Mercy reflected. _Lords and Ladies, there are so many bonds in this room; the air is positively pulsing with them. If we were bound any tighter, we wouldn't be able to move. But isn't that Yunalesca's whole argument? Everyone in Spira is so bound by the damn traditions, they can't see or think for themselves. Poor Yuna, she is confined most of all. Her father even named her after that bitch. And all of her guardians have deep-rooted bonds to her, except for me. Two foster-fathers, one foster-brother, one foster-sister, one cousin, one lover. By Yunalesca's reckoning, any of her guardians would make a fine choice, except that, from what I can see, she only has three volunteers. Only Wakka, Lulu and Kimahri seem willing to be Yuna's fayth._ As the discussion continued around her, her thoughts stuttered, and paused. _But the other fayth, Shiva, Yojimbo, and the dreamers and the listeners, they woke up ten years ago. They couldn't have been certain which summoner would be standing here now, but they have been hoping that Auron would be standing here guarding that summoner. It's his bonds that matter, because he is tied to all of us, not just all of us now, but those two lost souls ten years ago. Maybe it's three lost souls, maybe he lost a part of himself then, too, a part he still needs to find._ Her thoughts sped up, as the concept took wing in her mind. _Braska, his loved and revered older brother. Jecht, the 'black-sheep' brother, so opposite as to be almost a rival, but his brother nevertheless. Kimahri, who redeemed his oath for him, and saved him from being forsworn, a debt of honor he can never repay. Yuna, Braska's daughter, and Tidus, Jecht's son. He had promised both their fathers that he would guard them. He gave his word, which he never breaks, not even in death. He loves Tidus as if he were his own son, even if he will never admit it. Wakka's hero worship of him carries its own burden, and its own obligation, as does Lulu's envy and jealousy. But I still may have to scratch that witch's eyes out one of these days_, Mercy thought, totally irrelevantly. In a blinding flash, she realized the meaning of something that Auron had said that morning, when he had said that, 'even if Yuna chooses the Final Aeon, we should be able to salvage something.' _What we could salvage_, she guessed, _would be Rikku._ _Between us, we could make sure that Rikku survives, and makes her way safely back to her people. The Al Bhed would have the best chance of protecting her from any possible backlash the temples might send against a surviving guardian, and she could carry the truth forward to another generation_. Mercy sighed. _And I am only here because I am bound to him, and he to me. Our bond has already proved true, as Yunalesca put it, otherwise I wouldn't be standing here to think these thoughts. The fayth probably hoped that he would forewarn his summoner, that she would be prepared when this time came. But I think he loved Braska too much, or loves Yuna too much, to tie her hands that way, when she has already spent her whole life marching down a preordained path. _Her gaze fastened on Tidus for several heartbeats. _Now, it may be her love for Tidus that saves this place. But I wonder, what happens to him if the dreamers find their rest? _Mercy walked the length of the chamber, to Auron's side. She let her shoulder brush against his arm as they stood together. She wished she could do more, but there was no comfort she could offer for this pain, only support. They remained silent, listening as the argument wound down. When the decision was made to ask Yunalesca, Mercy began to hope. She and Auron exchanged a glance as they went last through the door at the top of the stairs, and one word, one, "Maybe."

The stairs led, not to another room of the stadium, but to a platform paved with gray stones, suspended high above the dome, the air slightly thin, under the night sky and the stars. Yunalesca appeared opposite them, appearing as if on a stage designed expressly for her performance.  
"Have you chosen the one to become your fayth?" Yunalesca asked eagerly. "Who will it be?"  
"Might I ask something first?" Yuna questioned her in return. "Will Sin come back, even should I use the Final Summoning to defeat it?"  
Yunalesca spoke as she would to a child. "Sin is eternal. Every aeon that defeats it becomes Sin in its place. And thus is Sin reborn."  
Tidus muttered under his breath, "So that's why Jecht became Sin."  
Yunalesca continued, "Sin is an inevitable part of Spira's destiny. It is never ending."  
Wakka burst out, "Never ending? But…but…if we atone for our crimes, Sin will stop coming back, ya? Someday, it'll be gone, ya?"  
_Poor Wakka_, Mercy thought. _He is a true believer. Will it crush him, or make him stronger? I only know Braska from Auron's memories, and his daughter not at all yet, but if Yuna has any of her father in her, then all of her guardians will rise to the occasion. _Mercy crossed her fingers behind her back again.  
"Will humanity ever attain such purity?" Yunalesca asked, more than a hint of condescension in her tone.  
Lulu strode forward in righteous indignation. "This…this cannot be! The teachings state that we can exorcise Sin with complete atonement! It's been our only hope all these years!"  
_Temper, temper. So Lulu's cool exterior conceals a believer as well_, Mercy noted in surprise.  
"Hope is…comforting. It allows us to accept fate, however tragic it might be." Yunalesca continued to treat them as though they were children.

Two young, male voices cried, "No!" simultaneously, Tidus' and Auron's, ten years ago, both rushing forward, swords drawn. They all watched as Auron's earlier incarnation confronted Yunalesca alone. Mercy braced herself for what she knew was coming.  
In his rage, and his grief, the younger Auron shouted, "Where is the sense in all this? Braska believed in Yevon's teachings and died for them! Jecht believed in Braska and gave his life for him!"  
In the past, Yunalesca replied patiently, "They chose to die…because they had hope."  
The ghostly Auron charged at her, and she hit him with a powerful blast. He went flying backwards through the air and landed in a crumpled heap, silently, his sword stabbing the ground.  
Mercy had tried to brace herself for this, she had known all along it was coming…but it hadn't help. She gasped aloud when her husband's spectral form collapsed on the pavement, and she had to dig her nails into her palms to keep herself from rushing forward to help him, even through she knew it was ten years too late. _This was…his death. No one could have survived that. No one. I'm amazed he managed to crawl over the mountain to meet Kimahri. If he hadn't been such a fool…we would never have met. But I would have spared him this…if I could_. She desperately wanted to wrap her arms around him, now, in the present, to hold on tight and never let go, to take some tiny piece of this pain away, and knew that she couldn't. He would never allow himself to show that kind of weakness, not in front of the bitch who killed him. Mercy looked into her Auron's tight, set face, and then turned, and saw a cold, triumphant little smile on the present day face of the witch-queen.

In the present, Yunalesca began the lesson again, as she advanced the last few steps to confront them. "Yevon's teachings and the Final Summoning give the people of Spira hope. Without hope, they would drown in their sorrow. Now, choose. Who will be your fayth? Who will be the one to renew Spira's hope?"

In the silence, Mercy found herself wishing that she believed in some kind of a Supreme Being, so that she could pray right now. She didn't, so she would have to settle for hope. She hoped, with all her heart, that Yuna would make the right choice, the hard choice, the choice that Spira really needed. At Yuna's first words, her soul lifted.

Yuna's words rang in the quiet. "I choose…no one. I would have gladly died. I live for the people of Spira, and would have gladly died for them. But no more! The Final Summoning…is a false tradition that should be thrown away."  
Yunalesca was appalled. "No. It is our only hope. Your father sacrificed himself to give that hope to the people. So they would forget sorrow."  
"Wrong," Yuna began, her head bowed. "My father," her voice gained strength, and she raised her head to face the lady, "My father wanted…to make Spira's sorrow go away, not just cover it up with lies!"  
Yunalesca tried to regain the upper hand. "Sorrow cannot be abolished. It is meaningless to try."  
Yuna refused to yield. "My father…I loved him. So I…I will live with my sorrow, I will live my own life! I will defeat sorrow, in his place. I will stand my ground and be strong. I don't know when it will be but someday, I will conquer it. And I will do it without…false hope."  
Mercy's heart filled with wonder. _I'm not sure Tidus deserves her. But I think her father…would be very proud of her._  
Yunalesca's voice was filled with pity. "Poor creature. You would throw away hope. Well…I will free you before you can drown in your sorrow. It is better for you to die in hope than to live in despair. Let me be your liberator."  
Lady Yunalesca revealed her true form at last. She would fight them to keep the secret of the Final Summoning. She would fight them as a fiend.

Auron shouted "Now! This is it! Now is the time to choose! Die and be free of pain or live and fight your sorrow! Now is the time to shape your stories! Your fate is in your hands!" _They must choose to fight_, his mind screamed. _They must! Or it has all been in vain._ For a few seconds, he heard nothing but the sound of his own heart beating. Then he heard the sounds he had waited ten years to hear…weapons being drawn and readied, around him, beside him. Relief flooded through his system, and with it, renewed hope. He closed his eye. _Braska, Jecht_, he called in his mind, _I did my best. I hope it proves enough_.  
Kimahri addressed Yuna, "Yuna needs Kimahri. Kimahri protect Yuna."  
Rikku spoke to no one in particular, "Well, I'm fighting!"  
Wakka spoke to Lulu, "I can't believe we're gonna fight Lady Yunalesca! Gimme a break!"  
Lulu responded wryly, "You can always run."  
Wakka replied, "Hah! I'd never forgive myself-no way! Not if I ran away now. Even in death, ya!"  
Lulu smiled at him. "My thoughts exactly."  
Mercy looked over at Auron, and said quietly, so that only he could hear, "That was quite a speech, coming from you. But I don't think our own story is done just yet, either."  
She only heard a short "Hmph" in response, but she saw the corner of his mouth turn up, just a little.  
Tidus called out, "Yuna! This is our story! Now let's see this thing through together!" Yuna nodded to him in reply.  
Then Auron started shouting battle orders, directing Rikku to, "Steal whatever you plan to, quickly, then set up a healing station behind the lines. Now! Everyone else, we should not all engage her at once. She is old, and powerful. We will need reserves. Three at a time. Lulu, Wakka with me, now!"

Lulu's doublecast her spells, and they were moderately effective, but Yunalesca countered by silencing the mage after each casting. Wakka thumped the witch soundly with his ball, but she blinded him after every hit. Auron struck hard at the fiend. She blinded him as well, but he had trained himself to fight while sightless, and he was nearly as effective a fighter without his sight as he was with it. Mercy, seeing Wakka stumble around, yelled, "Wakka, get out, I have a charm that makes me immune to blindness!"  
"Whatever you say, lady," he shouted back, and dropped out of the fight, as Mercy took his place. Mercy sank her blades into Yunalesca's midriff, and the witch fell. But her satisfaction was short-lived, as the witch-fiend rose again, surrounded by a mass of lacy black tentacles. Those tentacles plunged into the ground and came up underneath each member of the party currently in the battle, turning them each into zombies and slapping them around viciously. Yuna switched with Lulu and threw up one of her protection shields around herself, as both Auron and Mercy each quickly drank something to counteract the zombie effect so Yuna could heal them as they fought. They could not quite reach Yunalesca herself, so they had to settle for hacking at the tentacles, which they both did with a will. Mercy saw the shimmer of an airy shield go up around her, just before another round of tentacles came up from the ground again. She cursed as the zombie effect took hold again. It made her feel nasty and slimy, as though the flesh were trying to creep off her bones. She cursed as she fought, but she kept going.

"Don't fight the zombie effect," Auron shouted. "I think she's going to change again, and I don't know what will happen." Yuna cast Holy, and the unholy creature morphed into something from the blackest pit of hell. An enormous, disembodied head with putrid yellow eyes, a forked tongue, and thick, snake-like tentacles for hair cradled the great lady of Yevon in its tender embrace. Then she cast a death spell on all three of them. And it failed, because they were all still suffering from the zombie effect she had inflicted upon them. So she sent her tentacles up through the floor again, and slapped them all around even more violently then before. And left Mercy's body a shattered wreck on the stone.

Auron heard Yuna gasp, and turned his head, and saw his wife lying lifeless on the floor. He did the only thing he could. He moved to stand over her, to shield her with his own body. An instant later, he felt someone at his right side, and glanced to see Tidus standing shoulder to shoulder with him, protecting Mercy together until Wakka and Kimahri carried her gently away. Auron stepped back into his own place in the center of the battle line, and a blood red haze fell over his vision. Moving more swiftly than should have been possible, he drove in and swung his great sword across the fiend's enormous yellow eyes, over and over, until his blade dripped with the ichor. He delivered blow after blow, leaving great tearing rents in the creature's face. But as he struck at the monster, he paid no attention to his own defense, and its tentacles delivered repeated whips and cuts to arms, legs, and face. The severe blows from the heavy tentacles cracked two of his ribs, and blood was dripping down his face, and down his arms until his hands were so slippery he was having difficulty holding onto his sword. He, too, was taking heavy damage, damage that his rage was allowing him to ignore, but which would eventually destroy him if he didn't come to his senses in time to save himself.

Kimahri decided not to wait. He waded in, wrapped his great arms around Auron's biceps, effectively putting the older guardian in a blue-furred straitjacket, and carried the man out of the fight and back to the healing station, while Wakka took Auron's place in the battle. The swordsman struggled with the Ronso every step of the way, until Kimahri carried him to where Rikku was passing out potions and field-dressings, and a woman's voice finally penetrated the fog in his brain, saying, "Auron, it's okay. I'm all right. But what the hell happened to you?"  
Kimahri felt the fight go out of the man, and released him. Auron stumbled, because as the rage left him, the effects of his many wounds took its place. The Ronso helped him find the ground in a more dignified manner than simply falling in a heap, as Rikku rushed up with some potions. "Rikku, get me some rags and some water, too, will you?" Mercy asked the girl. Then she sat on the ground beside Auron, and touched his face, trying to find a place where he wasn't cut up. "What happened?"  
Kimahri answered, one word, "Berserker." Then he left them alone.  
Auron swallowed the potions, wincing as the effects coursed through him. Then he pulled her roughly into his arms, and held on tight. She wrapped his ponytail around her fist and dragged his head up. "Don't you dare ever do that again. Do you hear me? I didn't go through all this shit just to lose you now." Then she kissed him, hard, just to emphasize her point. "Okay, let's go finish this bitch and get the hell out of here," she finished, standing up and reaching down her hand to him. He took it, and stood and they turned to see what was happening.

Yuna had just called Bahamut. Mercy gasped. She had never seen an Aeon before. She'd never seen a dragon before, either, except in a painting. But there he was. "Wow, wow, WOW!" she screamed in excitement. Then the Aeon sent a massive number of flares straight at the queen-fiend, and they finally defeated Lady Yunalesca. At last, the witch lay on the stones, returned to her original form, trying one last time, either to seduce the men with her body or to frighten the children with her words. Mercy wasn't sure which effect the old fiend was aiming for. She looked around the circle, and it was a circle. They were surrounding Yunalesca, making sure that she couldn't escape. But they were all still fascinated, and were ready to hang on her every word, and every gesture, until the end. Except for Auron. He kept his back turned to the witch who had killed him. He had done what he set out to do. He clearly felt no need to watch. Mercy looked up, saw the tight, set look on his face. He clearly felt no need to forgive the bitch, either. Mercy stood beside him, facing into the circle with the others, but laid her hand on his arm.

"If I die, Yunalesca said pitifully, "So does the Final Aeon. And with it, Spira's only hope." _Thank goodness for that_, Mercy thought with relief. _No one will have to go through this again!_  
Defiantly, Tidus shot back, "Then we'll find Spira a new hope!" _Don't get too full of yourself, honey_. _There'll be no living with you_. Mercy wanted to laugh hysterically, and realized that she was just overwhelmed with relief. She tamped down the reaction, but still felt a small smile cross her face. Tidus was irrepressible.  
Yunalesca let her contempt show. "Fool. There is no other way." Then, with resignation, she went on, "Even if there was…Even if you did destroy Sin…Yu Yevon the immortal would only create Sin anew."  
"Yu Yevon?" Tidus questioned.  
But Yunalesca was beyond responding to him. "Ah…Zaon…Forgive me…" she cried sadly. "Spira has been robbed of the light of hope…All that remains is sorrow," she wailed, as she vanished in a swirl of pyreflies.

Yuna was suddenly overwhelmed by the enormity of it all. "I cannot believe what we just did," she said, shaking her head. _Now, child, wait until you realize that you will get to worry about having a life to live. _Mercy almost smiled. _Then you really won't believe it. But at least, now you have a chance_.  
But Tidus was filled with confidence by their success, and it rang clear in his voice. "Let's do something more unbelievable," he challenged.  
"What?" Rikku asked.  
"Destroy Sin," he answered, sounding very sure of himself. So it won't come back, and without the Final Aeon. I don't know how just yet. But I'll find out." _I hope you do_, Mercy thought, _because that is what has to happen. That is what the fayth want. And I know for certain, that that is what Spira needs_.

Before they left the scene of Yunalesca's defeat they found another one of those strange crests. They still had no idea what the things were for, although by this time the party had acquired several. After they moved back into the room with the grand staircase everyone else kept going, heading outside the old stadium, but Auron motioned Tidus to remain behind. Mercy decided to stay unless Auron asked her to leave. _I think I know what this is all about. Why did Yunalesca show us that scene? With Auron there? Was she taunting him? Was she trying to make everyone guess? I would have known that was a deathblow, just by watching it. Especially the way he landed_. She grimaced at the memory. _Tidus probably guesses the truth. It's better if Auron tells him now, instead of making this another 'lie of omission'_, she reasoned. _Of course, I'm not taking my own advice. Not yet_.

"There is something you should know." Auron told the young man.  
"I know...it's about you, right?" Tidus replied.  
"I am also an unsent. "You are not surprised?" Auron strove to keep his voice calm, but Mercy heard the strain in it.  
"I think I kinda knew. It was Yunalesca, wasn't it?"  
Auron forced the words out. "When Braska and Jecht died defeating Sin...I just couldn't accept it." His thoughts began to run in a private counterpoint to his words, _I did not accept the necessity of Braska's sacrifice before I knew about Sin…after…well…_ "I came back here...tried to avenge them." _Jecht was right…it had been stupid…incredibly, idiotically, fatally stupid._ "But she struck me down." _And I was too stubborn to die on the spot, the way I should have_. "Somehow I made my way, crawling, down Mount Gagazet." _Crawling, stumbling, sometimes screaming in pain. That journey still lives in my nightmares._ "But my strength left me just outside Bevelle." _Thanks to some final assistance from a chimera_. "That's where Kimahri found me. I told him about Yuna... just before I died." _And decided that I was not ready to rest on the Farplane_. "I've been wandering ever since, never going to the Farplane.  
Tidus flinched in memory of the encounter he had witnessed. "Auron..."  
"Don't make that face. Being dead has its advantages." Auron smiled warmly at Mercy, now standing next to Tidus. No masks were necessary when the three of them were alone together. "I was able to ride Sin and go to your Zanarkand."  
"And you've been watching over me since then, haven't you? Why?" he demanded. "What's the big idea? Why me?"

"It is one of those things that is difficult to explain. Very well, I will show you," Auron replied in resignation, then he walked to the center of the chamber. "My memories," he stated, and knelt with his back to them. As pyreflies escaped from his body, Tidus and Mercy saw Jecht and Braska in the same room, through his eyes, ten years ago.  
Jecht seemed almost embarrassed as he asked, "Can I ask you one last favor? Uh...Nah. Never mind."  
"Out with it!" Auron demanded impatiently.  
Jecht responded with more of his old confidence. "Okay. Listen good. Take care of my son. My son, in Zanarkand. He's such a crybaby. He needs someone there to hold his hand, see? Take care of him, will you?" Mercy bowed her head and closed her eyes. _Thank you, Jecht. Thank you so much_, she thought.  
Auron was incredulous. "But how am I supposed to go to Zanarkand?"  
Jecht threw Auron's words back at him with a barking laugh. "Hey! You said it yourself! There must be a way to get there, right? You'll find it."  
"All right, I will! I give you my word. I'll take care of your son. I'll guard him with my life."  
Jecht was serious for just a moment. "Thanks, Auron." But he returned to his usual mocking tones almost instantly. "You were always such a stiff, but that's what I liked about ya." Then Auron shut down his memory projection as Jecht approached him, clearly intending to hug him, but the vision faded before either Tidus or Mercy could be certain.  
Mercy looked from one to the other. _He gave his word, and he kept it, with no idea what in the hell he was letting himself in for. And here we are. Now that we've just thrown all their 'teachings' out the window, I wonder what happens next?_

As Auron rose from the floor, Tidus turned to Mercy, and asked, "You've known this all along?"  
"Yes. He told me the day before I met you," she replied.  
Tidus hugged her against his side for a moment, and she rubbed her cheek into his shoulder, debating whether this was the time to tell him the rest. She closed her eyes for a second, and felt Auron take her hand and squeeze it gently. "Let's go," he said quietly, and the moment passed.

They left the old stadium together, only to find Sin waiting outside, staring at Tidus, and keening. Tidus stared back, intently, as though he were communing with it, somehow, then Sin turned, and ambled off into the path of the setting sun. As they all watched, the Airship passed beside Sin, then floated over the party, and began to lower itself. Mercy turned to Rikku. "Is that your Dad's airship?"  
"Yup!"  
"I haven't had a hot bath in ages. Please tell me…"  
"You bet! Hot and cold running water in all the rooms. Just don't ask Pops how it works, 'cause he doesn't know," Rikku answered eagerly.

"I don't care how it works, as long as it works!" Mercy exclaimed.  
They all looked around at each other. They had defeated Yunalesca, and they were all, all, still alive. Whatever was going to come, they would face it, together. Tidus reached for Yuna's hand. Auron and Mercy just stared into each other's faces. They both knew that this was borrowed time, but it was still sweet.  
Rikku looked at everyone. They were all dirty, grimy, bruised and sweat-stained. She wrinkled her nose, then sniffed. "Phew, we could all sure use a bath." She started to giggle.  
Lulu immediately said, "Speak for yourself," in her usual, cool tones. Wakka, less sure of himself, tried to sniff discreetly at his armpits, a completely impossible task. Lulu slapped his arm down in disgust. Tidus started laughing.  
Auron snorted, "Hmph," at no one in particular, but then realized that he agreed completely with the young Al Bhed, he wanted to wash the dust of this place off as quickly as possible. He began to chuckle softly. After the strain and tension of the last few hours, one by one, they all burst into gales of relieved laughter, as the airship claimed them.

End Chapter Twenty-Seven


	28. Beautiful

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The title of this chapter is from a song written and performed by Gordon Lightfoot. The song is a love song, but not about new love, as most love songs are, it is about long-time, long-term love, about love fulfilled.

* * *

Aboard the airship, everyone stood on the bridge except Kimahri. The Ronso seemed to have already found a place inside the great ship. But now that they had veered off the traditional path, no one seemed to know where to head next. The ship was moving, but the party had lost its way. Even the ship's pilot was totally clueless, frantically asking someone, anyone, to set him a course for the vessel to take.  
Auron actually tried to elicit a direction from Tidus, surprising his wife no end, but the young man turned the tables on him, getting Auron to provide the opening clue. "What do we know?" The older man phrased it as a question, but it was a purely rhetorical one. "Sin is Jecht," he continued, finally stating it openly. "Thus, you have a link, a bond with Sin. That may be our key."  
"So what do we do?" Tidus asked, trying desperately to get him to keep going.  
Auron turned away from the group, and began to walk away. As he left, he almost threw the words over his shoulder. "We think, and we wait."  
"Two things I'm bad at," Tidus muttered, half under his breath.  
Mercy thought, _Honey,_ _you got that right_, then watched in utter amazement as Auron exchanged some unspoken 'something' with Yuna, then exited the bridge completely, almost as though he were ceding the field. _What the hell?_

Yuna moved towards the captain of the airship, and bowed to him respectfully. By the time she had risen, the man had turned his back on her! Yuna walked away dejectedly, and continued out of the command center. Mercy's mind raced. _Isn't the captain Yuna's uncle? Why did he treat her that way? Where did Auron go, and more important, why did he leave?_ Mercy left the bridge in search of him, and found him in the corridor just on the other side of the door, half-sitting on some exposed pipes. Companionably, she propped herself next to him, her shoulder pressed against his arm.

"Would you like to tell me why you left so abruptly?"  
"No," he said shortly.  
"Do it anyway," she responded equably.

Just then, Tidus burst through the door, and exchanged a few words with Auron, giving the older man a chance to examine his options. _Not that I have any_, he realized. _She will demand an explanation…and simply sit there until she gets one. She has that right. And I felt like a fool at the time when I fought with Cid…she'll be sure to remind me I was one, no doubt_. He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

After Tidus left the hallway, Mercy found herself studying Auron's profile, while he stared intently at his boots.  
"Well," she prompted, nudging her shoulder into his bicep again for emphasis.  
"When we were aboard this ship earlier, the Captain and I discussed Yuna's pilgrimage. The Al Bhed oppose the pilgrimages on principle, and Yuna is Cid's niece, so he was also opposed on a personal level. He planned to stop her from journeying, against her will if necessary. We...disagreed." He still seemed to find his boots rather fascinating.  
"Where was Yuna when this…discussion…was taking place?" Mercy asked.  
"She was in Bevelle, being forced to marry Seymour at gunpoint. We were on our way to rescue her." Auron tried to keep his voice level.  
"So you two...gentlemen...were planning to decide her fate, not only in her absence, but at a point where neither of you was in any position to carry out whatever...decision...you reached?" She rolled her eyes up to the ceiling in exasperation.  
"Yes."  
"I don't suppose you had this little argument on the bridge, by any chance, did you?" she asked sarcastically.  
"That would be correct," he replied evenly.  
"Let me get this straight," she began quickly. "You got into a fight with the captain of an airship, in mid-flight, on his own bridge? What were you trying to do, Auron, find out if you would go 'splat' or 'squish' if you landed from ten thousand feet in the air?" He sucked in a breath, as though he were going to say something. "Don't even think of answering that. Just don't." She cut him off angrily.  
She started shaking her head. Auron thought he heard her say something to herself, but he wasn't sure. She seemed to be muttering something like, "Too much testosterone, too few brains," but he wasn't certain that was what he heard. He almost asked her for clarification, but then he decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and he kept his mouth shut.

Tidus returned, speaking excitedly. "Guys, I've got it, you gotta come back to the bridge so I can tell everyone," he announced. Then he practically jumped through the door.  
Auron looked at Mercy. "You'd better see what's going on. I'm not exactly...welcome...on the bridge," he admitted with a slight smile. She shook her head in mild annoyance, but she wasn't completely able to suppress an answering grin, before she turned to follow Tidus to the airship's command center.

Rikku, Wakka and Lulu were still jockeying for position, all eager to tell Tidus something. Lulu achieved ascendancy as the door slid shut behind Mercy. She leaned against the wall next to the door.  
"The hymn is the key," Lulu stated. Wakka moaned behind her. Clearly he had wanted to be the one to say it.  
Tidus was obviously not getting it, so she continued. "Sir Jecht likes the Hymn of the Fayth, correct?"  
"Yeah," Tidus agreed, but clearly, he was still puzzled.  
"That's why he was listening to it in Macalania!" Rikku chimed in.  
"Sin...violence incarnate, listening peacefully," Lulu continued her explanation.  
"I know it's your old man, and I don't mean no disrespect, but..." Wakka broke in.  
"No, it's fine. I've gotten used to it." Tidus didn't mind Wakka's comment, but he did hate his continued confusion about what they were trying to tell him. It was driving him crazy.

Lulu saw his bewilderment, and tried to get the others to let her finish without interruptions. "Let me say it. If we attack Sin head-on, we've little chance of winning. However, if he hears the Hymn of the Fayth, he will become docile."  
Wakka broke in again enthusiastically. "Yeah, and that's when we make our move! Might be against the rules and all, but who's keeping track, ya? Ya?  
Rikku, too, "Yeah! It could really work!"  
Tidus finally understood. "Yeah... Yeah, it's worth a try! But first, we need to go to Bevelle to 'talk' to Mika." The expression on his face owed a lot to some of Kimahri's more feral expressions.  
Lulu immediately asked, "Why?"  
"We need to know more about this Yu Yevon character that Yunalesca mentioned. Kimahri thinks that Mika probably knows a lot. We just need to make him tell us. It was Kimahri's idea, but I think it's a good one. I think we should go to Bevelle." Tidus looked at the rest of them expectantly, waiting for their answers.

"Yeah," Wakka agreed. "I wanna talk to him 'bout the way he treated us the last time. An' all those machina in the temple, ya?"  
Rikku was even more enthusiastic. "Let's let Kimahri make him talk. Mika's given orders for lots of terrible things to be done to the Al Bhed. And he helped Seymour. I say, let's go get him."  
"Lulu?" Tidus asked politely for the mage's opinion.  
"Kimahri is right. Mika should have quite a bit of information that would be useful to know," her voice was cool, considering. "We should definitely talk to him before we proceed further. I agree."

"Good," Tidus replied. "Then it's settled." He turned to Cid; standing in the center of the bridge, beside the large blue sphere filled with electric images that served as a navigation console. "Set a course for Bevelle!" the blond shouted, pumping the air with enthusiasm.  
"Sure thing, boy," Cid answered. "You shake all the answers you can outta that damn maester!" he bellowed.  
Mercy had been silently watching as the others worked out the decision about their immediate destination. She didn't know a lot about Mika as an individual, but if Kimahri thought that there were still some answers to be extracted from the old bastard, that was good enough for her. But now that they had decided upon a heading, she had more immediate concerns. She spoke up, directing her question to Cid. "Captain, how long until we reach our destination?"

"And just who might you be, little lady?" Cid barked at her from across the bridge. Mercy advanced toward him, a warm smile on her face. She hoped that if she were friendly, he wouldn't throw her off the bridge, along with her husband.  
"Cid, isn't it?" she said as she reached him, and offered him her hand to shake. He did, but very quickly, not quite sure how what to make of her. "My name is Mercy. I'm Auron's wife."  
"Little lady, you have got to be kidding," Cid answered in surprise. "Lady, you're too pretty to be married to that grim-faced bastard standing out in the hall. There's just no way in hell."  
"I'm not exactly sure whether to be flattered or insulted," Mercy laughed, "but I'm not kidding about Auron. We've been married for three years. You can ask Tidus. He was a witness." _Whew! What did Auron do last time? What am I thinking? They're both too dominant. This bridge just isn't big enough to hold them both. They must have hated each other on sight_. "I'm sorry that you and Auron didn't exactly hit it off when he was aboard your ship the last time."  
"Well…" Cid wasn't quite sure what to say to that remark. _I'm sure as hell not going to apologize. I was right, damn it!_  
_That's as far as I'm going to go_, she decided. _Auron certainly isn't going to apologize, and I'm not about to do it for him. I am sorry you two didn't get along better when you met before_, she thought at Cid. _I'm sorry you were both prize idiots, for that matter_. "Back to my earlier question. How long to Bevelle?" Mercy asked again.  
"I don't want to burn out the engines like we did last time. What do you say we get there in the morning?" His daughter looked like she could use a good night's sleep. As Cid looked over all his daughter's companions he decided that they all did. And, thankful for the break, they immediately agreed to his idea.

Mercy scooted over to where Rikku had taken up a station on the bridge. "Quarters?" she asked eagerly.  
"Already on it" Rikku replied, then, "Deck 5, cabin C," to Mercy, "dee-luxe," the girl giggled, "cabin with bath. I checked."  
"I owe you one," Mercy said, as she left the bridge.

She found Auron in the corridor, still resting on the pipes. "Come with me," she beckoned, standing in the center of the corridor with her hands on her hips.  
"Why?" he asked cautiously.  
"The ship's taking us to Bevelle, but we won't get there until morning. We've been assigned a cabin for the night. I, for one, would like a hot shower, and a night's sleep in a real bed for a change."  
That got his attention. One corner of his mouth went up. "Sleep?" he said, clearly questioning her intent.  
She looked him over. After five years, she still liked what she saw. "Eventually," she promised slyly.  
He stood. " Then let's go," he responded, with a wicked grin.

Mercy had been wondering what Rikku meant by a 'deluxe' cabin. All that was required was a lock on the door, a bed, and a shower with hot running water. Anything after that was a luxury as far as she was concerned. They took the elevator to Deck 5, and located their cabin without difficulty. As soon as the door hissed open, she found out at least one of the reasons why the quarters had been labeled as 'deluxe' accommodations. The bed was positively huge! As her mouth dropped open in shock, Auron slipped into the room behind her, and she heard him click the lock into place. There wasn't much other furniture, just a utilitarian dresser with a mirror over it, and small nightstands built-in on either side of the bed. She spotted two doors on the left hand wall of the room. The first door she opened led to the most decadent bathroom she'd ever seen, including not merely a shower, but a shower that fell into a whirlpool tub big enough for the two of them. She didn't even bother to see what was behind the other door, she just stood outside the bathroom and started peeling off her dirty clothing as fast as her fingers could manage. Auron dropped his pack, propped his sword against the wall, and watched her, still completely fascinated by seeing his wife strip for him, even if she didn't seem to be aware that he was staring at every move she made. Then she looked teasingly at him over her shoulder, just before she disappeared into the bathing room, and he smiled to himself as he started to remove his own garments.

She was luxuriating under the flow of the hot water when he joined her in the shower. She had her back turned to the spray, so when he stepped in, they found themselves facing each other in the harsh light, and able to see, all too clearly, the effects of the battles the day before, and of the past four months. Her touch was gentle, as she explored the changes she found, her hand following her eyes. _His hair is grayer_, she noticed, combing her fingers through the thick strands, _even in just four months_. _And he's been in so much pain_, she thought, as her finger traced the lines beside his mouth, lines that had deepened noticeably since they had been apart. The potions he had taken earlier had completely healed the shallow cuts on his face, but there were still half-healed cuts and deeper contusions on his torso, including one yellowing bruise on his shoulder that she recognized was a memento of their rough love-making the night before. Her eyes skipped over his skin, from one thin white line to another. _So many more scars_, she noticed. _He's not just their tactician, _she decided._ He's their shield_. She looked him over carefully, tracing her hand along his side, skimming past his waist, to rest on his hip. Besides purely enjoying the view, she recalled when he had gotten dressed that morning. _He's lost weight_, she realized. _Fifteen pounds at least, and he was all muscle to begin with. He's been using up his reserves, just getting here_.

He studied her, too. But he also felt the need to touch, to caress. She was still, and always would be, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He would never love, or want, any other woman for the rest of his existence. But he could tell that the road from her Zanarkand to Spira had not been an easy one for her to travel, and he was sorry for it. Her hair was wet, and showed more silver amidst the deep brown than there had been four months ago. _What is there about becoming unsent that causes that_, he wondered. _She looks so tired, so worn_, he thought. _Those dark shadows under her eyes, she has not slept well for some time, always on guard. I should have let her sleep more last night_. Her cheekbones were more prominent, as well as her collarbones, and even her hipbones showed. _She is too thin_, he decided. _She was not joking about running out of food. I will just have to take better care of her_. His hands on her waist, he saw on her flesh the thin white lines that marked the scars of battles that she had survived, if not unscathed, at least intact. Then he noticed the fading bruises around her right breast, and raised his hand, and realized instantly that the distribution of the marks would exactly match the placement of his fingers if he cupped her breast. His face colored, and he started to drop his hand as he muttered, "I apologize, my lady."  
She reached for his hand, and placed it against her breast, stepping close to put her arms around him. "Before you feel too sorry, switch places with me and get your back under the water. Then decide," she said, a mysterious smile on her face. Her nipple poked hard into his palm, and she rubbed her whole wet, slick body against his. He bent his head to capture her lips in a long, gentle kiss as they maneuvered around each other in the tub. Then the water hit his back and he hissed at the sting.  
"What," he growled in feigned indignation, "did you do to me?" Now that he'd gotten used to it, the hot water actually felt good on his aching muscles, and it seemed to be washing away vast amounts of dirt and grime he was glad to be rid of.  
"We were in a hurry this morning; I didn't get a good look. And I don't think it's all my fault, now," she temporized. "The battles we fought today might have something to do with it. But turn around, let me see." He obeyed, but was reluctant to turn his gaze from the dancing mischief in her eyes. As he faced into the spray, she studied his back for several minutes. From his shoulders to his upper thighs, his back was decorated with several sets of four, parallel half-healed scratches. Her own handiwork, she was sure. But the marks from her nails on his back were criss-crossed everywhere by the lashings he had received from Yunalesca's tentacles. The potions had cured everything enough to make him functional, but hadn't cleaned up any of the dried blood left behind. _Well, that's what showers are for_, she thought, _among other things_, looking down at the size of the tub.  
"Well?" he finally asked impatiently.  
"Mmm. Let's just say that anything going up and down is my fault, and anything wrapping around is from the battle. I can't even tell how much damage is left. Auron, your back is a real mess. How did you get your shirt off without noticing?" She came up behind him, wrapped her arms around his waist, pressed her front against his back, holding him. He started to get lost in the sensations, her warm, slippery body against his, her breasts against his back, her hands skating up his abdomen and over his pectoral muscles, sliding over his wet skin.  
"Didn't notice," he rasped. "Didn't matter." He noticed everything now. He was just losing the capacity for speech as she touched and teased and tormented him. He was already hard and aching for her, and she'd probably just started. He groaned.  
"Let me wash your back," she purred. He nodded, his wet hair sending water flying in all directions. She peeled herself gingerly from his back, and reached for a sponge and some soap, and began to gently wash away the combination of dirt and dried blood that was sticking to his skin. As the muck rinsed away, she saw that the remaining damage was relatively minor, just a lot of partially healed scratches and cuts running in all directions, plus quite a few bruises in various colors. With one hand, she soaped him and rinsed him off with the sponge, but with the other, she continually stroked and caressed, parts of his back that she had already attended to, his side, his hip, his buttocks, his thighs. He leaned forward, his legs braced, his hands flat against the wall, eyes shut tight and practically rolled back into his head. She set the soap and the sponge aside and continued to stroke him, one hand reaching between his legs, the other around his waist, plastering herself tight against his back, pressing kisses, into his back, almost nibbling as she continued to fondle him. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps as she rubbed her breasts against his back. Blindly, he grabbed for her hand. He wanted to be inside her when he came, and he needed it to be soon. They'd nearly lost each other again that day, and they were both on the edge…of everything.  
"Let me turn around," he said thickly. "Mercy, I need to see your face," he continued, as he pushed off from the wall.  
She let him loose, and he turned, and took her face in his hands. "I love you, my lady," he said against her lips, just before he devoured them with his own. She clung to him, answering with the intensity of her need for him. The water cascaded over them as they wrapped themselves around each other, touching, tasting, feeling, the sensation of wet hands over slick skin further igniting passions that were already fever hot. He broke their kiss and sat down in the middle of the huge bathtub, sliding between her legs and reaching up a hand to her. She stared down into his hungry, expectant face, biting her lower lip for a moment, then she knelt on either side of his thighs, and swiftly impaled herself on his hard shaft. The sensation was blissful torment, especially when she wiggled her hips to get her legs straightened out. Then it was just pure bliss. Sitting up, arms around each other, it was so easy to keep on kissing, and touching. Every time he flicked his thumb over her nipple, her inner walls spasmed around him, pleasure building on pleasure. He was so deep inside her, she felt like he was touching her heart. She used her inner muscles to grip him tightly, in a hot, wet, velvet vise. She began a rhythmic pulsing that caused waves of sensation to rise like a tide through his whole body. He grabbed her under her butt and suddenly shifted them both until she was underneath him, the water still splashing down, now pouring on his back, and her legs were still around his waist except now he could move and he was pumping into her and all at once she was grabbing him with everything she had and the water was a waterfall and she thought she saw a rainbow and she felt like she was riding it, and the tide crested over him and he drowned in the glory of it, throwing his head back and letting the water run down his face.

After a brief time, Auron heaved himself up from the bottom of the tub and helped her to stand. She clung to him; her legs still a little shaky, and stared up into his face. "I love you, Auron," she said simply.  
He kissed her gently. "I love you too, my lady." Then he smiled. "Enough that I am willing to wash your back this time."  
"You're on," she agreed, and presented her back to him. He swatted her rump, then searched for the sponge.

After they had finally finished removing too many days worth of caked-on dirt and embedded grime from each other's bodies, Auron stepped out of the shower and started to shave, while Mercy washed her hair again. _That is the third or the fourth time_, he mused, _at least. I have lost count_. He smiled at himself in the mirror. _I hope this ship has plenty of hot water_. He was almost done shaving when she finally turned off the water and stepped out of the bath. He watched as she took a towel from the rack and secured it over her breasts. She stood beside him and combed her hair as he finished shaving. Their eyes met in the mirror, and his heart suddenly pounded against his ribs. _This is…exactly the same as what I saw in the Calm Lands_, he realized, and dropped his razor into the sink with a clatter. His hands shook, and he gripped the edge of the sink to steady them. He closed his eye, counted to ten…and prayed. Then he opened his eye, slowly, to find his wife staring at him, a puzzled frown on her beautiful face. _She is…still here_. Relief flooded through him. He pulled her roughly into his arms, and buried his face in her hair.

The next morning, after yet another shower, Mercy dragged the last item out of her pack that was even remotely wearable. "Auron, do you think I'll have enough time in Bevelle to do some shopping?"  
"No," he roared instantly from across the room.  
"What do you mean, no? I wasn't asking you to go with me, so don't get that long-suffering look on your face. Although, come to think of it…" she teased. She heard him moan in pretended anguish. "Wait a minute, you don't have to come, but," her voice dropped, "could you at least lend me some money?" His head shot up at her tone, and he crossed the room to her as soon as he saw the forlorn look on her face. "I don't know what things cost here," she continued morosely, "and I don't have any gil except what I got off the fiends I dispatched back in the ruins. I'm broke."  
He brushed his knuckles against her cheek. "I will not 'lend' you any money, my lady." A hurt look crossed her features. He tilted her face up to his and lightly kissed her down-turned lips. "We are married. What is mine is yours." Her face lit in a smile, and he returned it. "But there is a merchant on board this ship. Rin is…quite resourceful. He will probably be able to supply what you need. And I would rather not spend any more time in Bevelle than is necessary." She did not argue with him, but he could tell that she was still concerned. "I must see Rin myself this morning about a new bracer…come with me. If he does not have what you want, we will go to the shops in Bevelle. I promise."  
She hugged him tight. "I'm sorry. It feels strange not having my own money. Having to ask. I don't like it," she said her voice muffled against his chest. She lifted her head and spoke up. "I need a bunch of stuff. Potions, I guess. Clothes, for sure. My stuff is about to fall apart. And I found this charm against blindness, but I have to wear it on a string around my neck. I need to find something better. But I'm happy to meet Rin." She closed her eyes for a moment in thought. "Hey, isn't he the one who helped you ten years ago?"  
"Yes. But please do not discuss it with him too much. He examined me quite closely then. He knows that I should not have survived with the wounds he treated," he instructed her. She nodded.

Auron located Rin easily, as the merchant seemed to have permanently reserved a section of the corridor on the main level for his airborne Travel Agency. As they approached the Al Bhed, the entrepreneur began greeting them in his usual effusive manner. "Sir Auron, I am pleased to see you this morning. And this must be your wife," he smoothly continued, taking Mercy's hand and bowing over it. "Lady Mercy, I am delighted to meet you. I am Rin, the owner of this establishment. How may I be of assistance to you?"  
"Master Rin," Mercy said, drawing her hand away, "I am very glad to meet you as well. Besides the usual sorts of potions and elixirs, what other goods and equipment do you have on hand? What services do you offer?" she asked intently.  
"Whatever you need, dear lady," the merchant replied, smiling eagerly, scenting a major sale. "Is there something specific that you require?"  
She took a deep breath. "Yes, lots. Do you make clothing to order?"  
"But of course. Do you have anything that I can use as a pattern, or shall I call for my assistants to take your measurements?" The corner of her mouth turned up in wry amusement. She didn't even need to see Auron's face to know that he would be impatient with the amount of time it would take for measurements.  
She opened a small parcel that she had been carrying. "Take these," she said, handing the worn garments to the merchant. "Use them as patterns. Don't worry; I know they won't survive the process. They probably wouldn't survive a good washing, anyway." He unfolded the two items she had laid on the counter, noting that the tunic and leggings would be relatively simple for his workers to make. "How long will it take you to make me up some new stuff? I'd like at least six sets."  
"Two will be ready by this afternoon. The rest by tomorrow morning, dear lady. It will be my pleasure," he finished, bowing slightly to her.

"There's something else," she spoke hesitantly now. "I need something, I don't know, not armor, exactly, but…" she stopped talking, and reached inside the edge of her tunic and drew out a long cord she had knotted around her neck. In the center of the cord, a large, translucent black bead hung suspended from the cord. "This is a charm against blindness," she told the merchant. "Let's just say that its previous owner won't be needing it anymore, but I find it very useful. But this was the only way I could wear it. Do you have something better, more secure? I'd hate to accidentally cut this, or break it."  
"Dear lady," Rin began, "I can do much better than that. Please, take a look at these," he continued, opening a locked case and lifting out a tray. The contents gleamed and glittered in the lights overhead.  
"They're beautiful," she breathed. Auron, hearing the stunned wonder in her voice, came up close behind her and looked over her shoulder.

The velvet-lined shelf was filled with precious metal, delicate traceries of silver and gold, worked into beautiful chains of varying patterns, lengths, and thickness. He saw her hand reach out, almost touch a silver serpentine chain which already bore a dark green stone, but she pulled her hand back. Auron picked up the pendant she had indicated and draped it around her neck, clasping it at her nape. "Is this what you want?" he asked softly, his hands on her shoulders.  
She tilted her head back, and nodded to him, the expression on her face warm and loving. "Why don't you let me…make sure the one I have will fit on here too?" she finally managed to say. He undid the clasp, and handed her the necklace, and she drew the old cord over her head, and untied it. The black bead snuggled up next to the green one with a slight 'click', as Auron refastened the silver chain about her neck. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice low. When their eyes met, she mouthed the words, "I love you" to him. He smiled back at her, looking both happy and extremely pleased with himself.

But after a few seconds, he recalled their surroundings, and turned to the Al Bhed. "What is the stone?" he inquired curtly.  
"A ward against poison," the merchant replied equably. "It should prove…useful…as your lady said earlier."

Auron then asked to see some of the armor that Rin had set aside, and Mercy began to wander the shelves of the small shop, searching for any other items that she needed. She ferried several potions to the counter, as she observed her husband select a new bracer, and then begin to haggle with the shop owner over the price he was willing to pay for the goods that they had purchased. She listened to the tone of his voice, and was surprised to hear that he was actually enjoying himself. She thought back to their years in Zanarkand, and how different it was from this. And how much things had changed. _I never realized, how much it must have galled him about the money. He arrived with the coins in his pockets, and I already owned the place we lived in. I always made more money, and I never thought anything of it. I knew it bothered him, but I don't think I knew how much, until now. He's so pleased to be taking care of me this time, instead of the other way around. But I'll be happier when I have a few more coins in my pocket that I know are just mine_. Then she spotted the last items she needed in the corner of the store, found her size, counted out a dozen pairs of black bikini underwear, and carried them triumphantly to the counter. Auron saw what she was buying, and his face turned beet red. He hastily concluded his bargaining with Rin, letting the merchant win in his haste to get out of the store with what remained of his dignity still intact. The Al Bhed was having some difficult suppressing his amusement at Auron's embarrassment.  
As they left, Mercy laughed gaily, "You're the one who didn't want me to go shopping in Bevelle."

As soon as he heard the elevator doors close behind the two guardians, Rin burst into laughter.

End Chapter Twenty-Eight


	29. Holding Back the Years

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The title of this chapter is from a song performed by Simply Red.

* * *

They were nearly shot by the guards when they tried to enter the Palace of St. Bevelle. Wakka, Tidus and Rikku were all ready to make a fight of it, when a young woman came flying out of the palace and screamed at the guards to stop. From Mercy's perspective, it was difficult to tell who was more surprised that this girl was truly the captain of the guards: the guards, the party, or the girl herself. It was clear to her from the way that everyone in the group addressed the new captain, especially Auron's sarcastic remarks, that they had encountered the young woman before. _At least_, Mercy thought, _it seems she can get us in to see this Mika quickly, whatever her other faults_. But as they passed through the magnificent halls of the Palace of St. Bevelle on their way to the courtroom, she pulled Auron to the back of the group. 

"What's her name?" Mercy asked quickly.  
"You mean the new 'captain'? Auron asked disparagingly. "Her name is Shelinda. Why?"  
"Are they all as…literal-minded…as she is?" his wife questioned him in return.  
"No. Most are unfortunately much smarter than that. Why are you harping on this?" he asked, annoyed.  
"Then hadn't you better hold off on the sarcasm? One of the more intelligent ones might take offense," she shot back.  
"I'll consider it," he replied, as they stepped through the doors of the courtroom, where the Grand Maester Mika awaited them.

Mika was nearly frantic. "Why are you here? You must go and defeat Sin, quickly! You have obtained the Final Aeon from Yunalesca, have you not?"  
"Well, we did meet her," Tidus began.  
"We fought and defeated her," Yuna finished for him.  
Mika was incredulous. "What!"  
Auron spoke with steely resolve, and long-simmering anger. "Summoners and guardians will be sacrificed for the Final Summoning no more!" _No more, old man. Not another Jecht. Never another Braska. No more!_ He screamed in his heart, but his lips remained closed.  
Mika cried out, "You have profaned and subverted a thousand-year-old tradition? Fools! Infants! Do you realize what you've done? You've taken away the only means of calming Sin!"  
Mercy searched Auron's set face, and saw how close his anger was to the surface. The rising panic in the old man's voice made her shake in her boots. _Old man_, she prayed, _do not, by whatever is holy in this misbegotten place, call your guards. Fayth, whatever you are, I beg you, do not let this old fool call his guards. If the guards come, Auron will start a bloodbath in here. No guards, please, no guards_. She crossed her fingers again, and balled her hands into fists at her sides.

Tidus tried to get the old maester to see the new path they were taking. "Hey, maybe that's not the only way! We think we've got another."  
Mika shook his head. "Why...Preposterous! There is no other way!" The volume of the old man's voice was falling now. The fight had gone out of him.  
Auron snorted in disgust. "The grand maester, running away?" Mercy let out her breath in a sigh, and unclenched her hands.  
Mika bowed his head. "Spira has lost its only hope. Destruction is inevitable. Yu Yevon's spiral of death will consume us all. I have no desire to watch Spira die."  
Yuna stood firm. "It won't die!"  
Mercy relieved about the immediate future, let the thought form, _you were watching Spira die, you old fool. Now, maybe, there is a chance..._  
Tidus asked, "Who is this Yu Yevon guy?"  
Lulu pressed Mika further, "Lady Yunalesca also mentioned him."  
And Rikku, "Wait, gramps! Who's Yu Yevon?" she shouted.  
Mika paused, then spoke wearily. "He who crafts the souls of the dead into unholy armor. An armor called Sin. Clad in it, Yu Yevon is invincible. And the only thing that could have pierced that armor, you have destroyed! Nothing can stop it now."  
The grand maester vanished, sending himself to the Farplane rather than face a future that he believed was doomed. _Good riddance_, Mercy thought, nodding her head sharply at the Grand Maester's final retreat.  
Wakka cursed at the empty air, "Disappear on us, will ya? Rotten son of a shoopuf!"

Shelinda swept in moments later, clearly expecting that Mika would be in the courtroom. "Where…where is the Grand Maester," she stuttered.  
Yuna couldn't figure out how to reply, so she started to stammer in return, "He, um..."  
But Auron broke in gruffly, "He's not here yet. How long must we wait?" Mercy turned her face away, and covered her mouth with her hand, so as not to expose her husband for the terrible liar he was by bursting into laughter.  
The girl replied in confusion, "That's odd…I'll go look for His Grace." And she left again, closing the doors behind her.

Tidus and Yuna turned, and spoke to something in the corner of the room. No one else could see it, but Mercy thought she saw a shimmer of purple in the direction they were looking. _Another fayth?_ When Yuna announced that she needed to go see the fayth, Mercy was certain that was what she had seen. Auron's cryptic, "I see," made her wonder if he saw it as well, or just guessed.

As the rest of them waited for Yuna and Tidus to return, Mercy pulled Auron aside. "You're still a terrible liar," she whispered, her eyes dancing with amusement.  
"She believed me," he muttered back.  
"Yes, but you're the one who said she's not too bright," his wife shot back. "You're still better off playing it deep and mysterious."  
"I'll keep that in mind," he replied, a half-smile briefly lighting his face.

The party waited for Yuna and Tidus to return, in varying degrees of impatience. But when the group was reunited, Yuna looked troubled. She kept glancing at Tidus, as though he had said or done something that disturbed her. At last they made their way toward the exit, running into the new Guard Captain, Shelinda, again. It seemed she couldn't find Maester Mika anywhere in the Palace. Still, they managed to enlist her aid in singing a lullaby to Sin, when the time came. _But when would the time come?_ Mercy wondered. _And what should we do to prepare for it?_

Aboard the airship, she asked, "Did you learn anything about Yu Yevon from the fayth?"  
"Yeah!" Tidus began eagerly.  
"I have an idea," Mercy interrupted. "Why don't we find someplace where we can all sit down together and have lunch, and you can tell us, and we can plan our next move?"  
Any mention of food immediately caught both Tidus' and Wakka's attention. "Sounds good to me," Wakka responded enthusiastically.

Rikku also thought lunch sounded pretty good, so she organized a room and food with surprising efficiency. Mercy immediately thought 'Conference Room' as soon as she saw the place. It wasn't much, just big enough to hold a long table with too many chairs for the eight of them, plus an alcove that contained some basic kitchen equipment half-concealed behind a screen. The promised meal arrived while they were all settling into their seats.

Tidus was still eating when Lulu inquired coolly, "So, what did you learn from the fayth?" _Fine_, Mercy thought. _If she feels like she needs to take over here, that's okay by me. As long as this thing gets done._  
Yuna was the one who responded. "The hymn will calm Sin, but it will not harm it. We still must fight Sin, and then fight Yu Yevon. The fayth said we must call them, that they will help us. I promised that I would."  
Tidus swallowed his last bite and added, "The reason that Sin always came back before was that Yu Yevon was a summoner. Whenever anyone used the Final Summoning to defeat Sin, he would just, well, kinda, take over their Final Aeon and use it to make a new Sin. So he could keep going as long as summoners kept using the Final Summoning. Forever."  
Lulu just shook her head, her hair concealing her face. Wakka held his head in his hands, crushed at this final betrayal.

Mercy exchanged a brief look with Auron, and he nodded slightly. _This is your story, my lady. Now is the time for you to tell it_, he thought, as he watched her rise from her seat beside him.  
"There's something else," Mercy began hesitantly, as she stood behind her husband now. "I don't know what Auron or Tidus might have told you about what I did in Zanarkand…"  
Lulu spoke up immediately. "Nothing," she said, trying to make it sting.  
Mercy intercepted blank looks from all the others, as Yuna tried to smooth things over by saying, "Sir Auron didn't speak very much about anything."  
"I should have known better," Mercy continued, laughing slightly as she placed her hands on Auron's shoulders, "than to think that my husband would ever say a single extraneous word on any topic." She stared straight into the mage's eyes as she spoke, deliberately placing emphasis on the words 'my husband', reminding Lulu of her exact status within the group. Lulu's eyes flashed fire, but she knew better than to respond for the moment.  
Auron found that he had difficulty resisting the impulse to lean back, to let his head rest against his wife's breasts. _She strips away my defenses_, he realized. _Removes the masks I use to shield myself from the world…even from the others. Maybe, I no longer need them…if she is here_.

"Never mind," Mercy went on. "Anyway, I was a historian. A little like, what was his name, oh yes, Maechen, I believe. I'd love to have a long talk with him sometime..."  
"No," Auron and Tidus exclaimed in unison. "That would take days," Auron began. "Weeks," Tidus continued. "Maybe months," Auron parried.  
Tidus unwilling to let it go, turned to Auron. "Maechen should thank us. We just saved him from a fate worse than death. She would grill him until he told her every story he'd ever heard, no matter how long it took."  
Auron, completely deadpan, finished with, "No. I believe we just saved ourselves."

Mercy rested her hand on the nape of his neck for a moment, then wrapped her hand gently around the long tail of his hair, and ran her circled fingers down its length, as she smiled down at him. Suppressing a sensual shiver, Auron tilted his head to stare up at her, the back of his head resting against her arm. The wry half-smile on his face momentarily showed all his emotions, love, amusement, the niggling worry that she might truly hunt up the old wanderer, but the glint in his eye made it all too clear that he was teasing her, and enjoying himself immensely at her expense.

Yuna stared at Sir Auron in astonishment. With each hour, it seemed, he emerged more and more from the fortress he had built around himself, and she marveled at the change. _If this is what he was like in Zanarkand_, the summoner reflected, _it is no wonder Tidus said that he missed Sir Auron as much as he missed Mercy. This is wonderful to see. He deserves to be happy, and I am so happy for him_. Tidus saw nothing unusual in their exchange, he was just glad to see the old Auron coming back again. But Wakka and Rikku had followed the entire exchange with wide eyes, and were now staring open mouthed, still trying to absorb this new behavior from the normally withdrawn guardian. Lulu ground her teeth.

"Okay, guys, I give up. I promise I won't go searching for Maechen," Mercy said, laughing. Tidus heaved a huge sigh of relief, and theatrically wiped his forehead with his hand.

Then Mercy's hands dropped from Auron's shoulders, and she began to walk around the room, as her voice took on a much more serious tone. "I wasn't just interested in the story of the past, in the way Maechen is. My primary area of research was always causes and effects, the study of why groups of people act the way that they do."  
"Surely you're not saying you can tell anything about individual behavior?" Lulu asked skeptically.  
"No, Lulu, I'm not. That's the province of the mind healers." Mercy practically had to swallow her tongue, to keep herself from asking if Lulu needed one, but she managed, and continued speaking. "Population groups are predictable. Why towns spring up in some places and not others, for example."  
"What does this have to do with Spira," Tidus asked curiously.  
"Auron told me about Spira five years ago," Mercy explained. "I asked him a lot of questions," she faced her husband from across the table now, and smiled slightly, "some of which probably didn't even make sense at the time. I started doing research. Obviously, I couldn't find anything about Sin, but I was fascinated with the problem of how people would deal with a world-wide disaster that continued for so many years with very little respite."

"What did you look for?" Yuna inquired, fascinated now herself.  
"I went through all the material I could find on areas that had experienced natural disasters, and how they did or did not recover," the guardian-historian replied. Tornados, hurricanes, floods and earthquakes were what I primarily searched for. I looked both for places where they had recovered, and ones where they hadn't, and tried to determine what factors made the difference."  
"Why is this relevant?" Lulu practically screamed.  
Mercy put her hands on the back of an empty chair, and stared at each of her fellow guardians in turn, her eyes coming to rest on Lulu last, knowing that she would be the most trouble. "Spira is dying," she stated, firmly but sadly. "Sin is killing Spira."

Lulu slapped her hand down on the table in outrage. "That is just not possible. I refuse to believe it."  
Wakka spoke up, surprising everyone. "Lu, I don't wanna believe it, but things don't look good, ya? What if Mercy's right?"  
"How…how can you be certain of this?" Yuna asked in mixed alarm and confusion.  
Mercy jerked out the chair she was holding onto, and plopped into it. "That's the problem with theories. I can't be certain. I can only tell you what I found, and let you decide if it makes any sense."  
"I don't think it makes any sense at all," Lulu muttered sarcastically.

Mercy ignored the mage's comment, and began, "Every situation I researched, there was one very clear fact that emerged. It takes twenty years for the population to completely recover from a major disaster. That's the amount of time it takes for the orphans from the first one to grow up and start having their own children, and that seems to be one of the keys. It also helps if there are places either nearby or within easy transportation range that are willing to assist in disaster recovery. Or places that have a surplus population that see their neighbors' misfortune as their opportunity, and are willing to relocate. Any area that was hit too often, too close together, didn't recover. It dwindled, and eventually died. I saw it time after time, in place after place."  
"How does this…this research apply to Spira?" Lulu counter-attacked.  
"Unfortunately," Mercy sighed, "it is entirely too applicable. Spira never has twenty years to recover. It seems to have ten years at most, and then decades of worldwide catastrophe to deal with. There is no place in Spira that can effectively assist anywhere else, because everyone gets hit, sooner or later. And there is certainly no surplus population, not from what Auron told me." Her eyes met his, directly across the table now.

"How can you possibly know that?" Lulu challenged.  
"I can't," Mercy replied, "but you can. What have you seen on your journey? What have you read? What have you been told? Quit reacting to me and think about what I'm saying for a change, will you?" Mercy's voice rose, her temper finally beginning to snap.

"Besaid Village is the same size it was when I was a kid," Wakka said quietly, clearly thinking out loud. "Or maybe even a little smaller, ya?"  
"Did people move away?" Mercy asked, calm again.  
"A few moved to Luca, dey thought it might be safer. Mostly, dey just died. Killed by Sin, ya. Nobody needed their huts, so they just got left to rot, I guess," the big blitzer's voice trailed off.

Auron began speaking, very slowly, as if the words were being dragged out of his memories while tearing at his heart. "There was a village on the Djosé shore. Belvir. Braska, Jecht and I planned to spend the night there. Sin attacked during the night. The entire village was obliterated. It has never been rebuilt. There were only two survivors," he finished speaking, staring at his hands clenched on the table in front of him. Mercy stretched her legs under the table, and tapped her foot against Auron's boot. He looked up and met her eyes, and the frozen, glazed expression on his face eased a little bit.  
"That does not mean that all of Spira is dying!" Lulu wailed. _Why is everyone so willing to believe her? How can they all accept her wild theories so readily? She has not yet earned her place among us._  
"Doesn't it?" Auron replied grimly. "How many people have we met whose villages were wiped out by Sin? How many other villages' ruins did we see?"  
The black mage was furious, but momentarily silent. The answers were: too many, and, too many, and admitting this would not help her argument, she knew.

"We've seen some villages, ya," Wakka said slowly, "but Kilika keeps getting rebuilt, no matter how often Sin wrecks it. Why is dat?"  
"It's because of the temple," Mercy answered. "Because the temple is on an island. To reach it, you need a harbor. The harbor needs people to service the ships that come, take care of the men that crew them. And service the temple, as well. Some village has to exist somewhere on Kilika Island, as long as the temple is there. And Kilika also serves as the link between Besaid and the mainland, and Besaid-woven cloth is a prized commodity, I understand. So there is a third reason for the port to exist. Those three reasons, taken together, will keep rebuilding Kilika, since there is no other suitable site on the island."  
"But Djosé Temple doesn't have a village," Lulu shot back.  
"No, it doesn't, and that is one of the factors that tells me how wrong things are. It should. Belvir used to serve some of that purpose, as does the Hypello community on the west side of the Moonflow," Mercy replied calmly. "But Djosé is on the mainland, and can be supplied by road. Kilika must be supplied by ship, and visitors to the temple must arrive over the water, and that makes the difference."

"There is a regular caravan run from Luca to Guadosalam that passes through Djosé," Auron supplied. "Guard duty for that caravan was a common training assignment from Bevelle. I made that run several times when I was a trainee among the warrior-monks."  
"Dat explains it, then," Wakka concluded, nodding and scratching his head.  
Yuna spoke up. "We have met so many people who have said that their homes were destroyed by Sin. So many. And others who are simply wandering, searching for a place where they can live free from Sin." She wrung her hands in pity over the plight of the refugees they had encountered.

Mercy pressed on, "How many of us lost at least one parent because of Sin?" They all nodded or bowed their heads. Rikku was the lucky one in the group. She was the only one who still had a parent living, really, since Mercy didn't think Tidus would count Jecht as alive, exactly. But they all stared at Mercy in disbelief as she raised her hand with them. "Sin killed my parents, too, I just didn't know what it was," Mercy told them. "Did any of you know your grandparents?" A chorus of mumbled negatives was the only reply she received. She and Tidus were the only fortunate ones in this category. "In every generation, how many of the best and the brightest are lost fighting Sin? How many summoners and their guardians have died during their pilgrimages? Your whole way of life has been a fight for survival against an enemy that could not be defeated. You know that now. You could not win. I think you were losing ground with every generation that passed. Eventually, you would have lost."

Yuna gazed at Mercy from her seat near the end of the table. "Mercy, why are you telling us this?' she asked quietly, into the silence. "And why now?" the younger woman continued, letting her curiosity show.  
"A lot of reasons," the older woman began. "Unlike some people, I believe in sharing knowledge, in letting people make decisions based on all the information that is available," at this comment, Mercy cast a significant glance at Auron, who merely raised a brow, "even if that sometimes means I may talk a little too much in the process." At that, Auron let his lips turn up in a small smile, and she grinned back.  
Yuna, observing the non-verbal byplay as well as hearing the words, decided, _that is what I want to have with Tidus. Someday. The kind of understanding that doesn't need any words. That kind of love._  
Lulu, watching in bitterness, wondered, _would Chappu and I have had that, if we had had enough time? Could I ever have that, with anyone?_  
Mercy continued speaking, directing her words mainly to Yuna, "I thought you should know what I found out, because it seemed important. Spira is running out of time. The Final Aeon is not a solution, only a…stopgap…that can't continue indefinitely. At least, that is what I believe. I know that…destroying Yunalesca…went against everything you had been taught, all your life. It would be natural to doubt, to question, if you did the right thing. Especially as we prepare to take on Sin. I hoped it might help…to know that there was another reason why what you did was…the right thing to do."  
Yuna stared directly into Mercy's eyes. "I understand, a little. And thank you, for telling us. I think…it does help." Yuna bowed her head in acknowledgement, and respect.

Silence stretched out for long minutes, until Mercy finally broke it. "So, are we ready yet to face Sin, and Yu Yevon, in battle?" She looked at each member of the party in turn. One by one, they shook their heads. One or two even hung their heads, as though in shame at their unworthiness. _That can't be allowed to continue, _she decided immediately. "Then what do we need to do to get ready?" she challenged.

Everyone looked up, and began to speak, slowly at first, then almost tripping over each other in their eagerness. "Wait, wait," Mercy nearly had to shout over the din. "One at a time, so we can all hear. Yuna, you go first," she said, smiling at last.  
"Well," Yuna began, "Maester Seymour's aeon. I do not know where it can be found, but it was very powerful. We should look for it, I think."  
"There was a building where I first landed in Spira, I think maybe it used to be a temple," Tidus burst in. "It was in the middle of the ocean, I bet we could find it with the airship. Maybe the aeon is there. The place was half underwater. We should look there."  
"Yes, we should look for Seymour's aeon," Auron said gravely. "And there is another. Belgemine guards the remaining aeons at Remiem. The Magus Sisters. You must challenge and defeat all her aeons to gain the Sisters."  
Lulu decided it was her turn. Whatever Mercy's theories, they still had to defeat Sin. "There is one more powerful spell I need to learn, Ultima, which will require much study and practice. I also need time to accumulate more power. And, Yuna has considerable power, which can be used for either black or white magic. I am less skilled with white magic, but I believe it would be beneficial for both of us to learn as many of each other's spells as possible. There will be fiends who are only susceptible to magic, and times when we need more healing than Yuna and Rikku can provide."  
Wakka contributed, "The rest of us, fighters, we should all be at the peak of our training. You know what I mean, ya?"  
"You're right, Wakka," Tidus agreed. "Hey, maybe we should go back and see that old guy in the Calm Lands, the one running that Arena thing. If we have to train, we might as well get something for our trouble. You know, have a goal in mind. Might make it more rewarding. And, hey, didn't we hear a rumor that Lord Mi'ihen's old sword might still be around?" Tidus warmed to the subject.  
"That'd be some sword," Wakka responded.  
"Yeah," Tidus replied eagerly.

"Omega," Auron intoned.  
"Who, or what, is Omega?" Tidus asked.  
Lulu couldn't resist displaying her knowledge. "Seven hundred years ago, a monk named Omega who defied the teachings was sentenced to a dungeon. He became a fiend."  
"The traitor Omega," Wakka added.  
"His dungeon should be the final test of our readiness to face Sin. If we can beat Omega, that should prove sufficient," Auron concluded.  
"For all of us," Lulu added.

"There is one other thing we need to take care of, probably sooner rather than later," Mercy began again.  
"What have we forgotten?" Yuna asked diffidently.  
"What happens, if we fail?" Mercy asked the question that no one wanted to hear.  
"We won't fail," Tidus protested hotly.  
"Mercy's right. We must plan for everything we can, even the things we do not want to happen," Auron cut in.

Mercy tried a gentler, more directed approach. "Yuna, I think I know the answer, but please help me. All the teachings direct summoners to pray at the temples for the aeons, then go to Zanarkand to meet Yunalesca to receive the Final Aeon, correct?"  
"Yes," the summoner replied.  
Mercy continued, "But, because of what we did, Zanarkand is now a dead end." Tidus snickered. Auron snorted. Mercy looked daggers at both of them, then muttered, "No pun intended."  
Yuna was confused, but finally said, "That is right, the teachings now point to an empty ruin. What should we do?"

"Is there another summoner that you trust? Or, at least, one who will have an open mind?" Mercy asked her.  
"That lets Dona out," came the sarcastic comment from Tidus.  
"You got that right," Wakka replied.  
Yuna said, "Isaaru. But, why?"  
"Isaaru will not believe any of this," Lulu said bitterly.

"Lulu, don't put words in my mouth," Mercy shot back, heat in her voice. Then she took a deep breath, and continued. "His belief is not required. He just needs to listen, and, as I said before, to keep an open mind. If we succeed, he will have all the proof he ever needed, and his belief or disbelief now won't matter a damn. But if we fall, he'll need to go to Zanarkand. He'll find out for himself that Yunalesca is gone. He'll have to be willing to act, then. But if we fail, and we leave no one behind us who knows what we know, what happens when the next summoner reaches Zanarkand? How will they know what to do?" Mercy pleaded with Yuna.  
"I understand," Yuna agreed. "I think Issaru will do this, if…I ask him." The young woman cast her eyes down at the table, remembering her last encounter with the other summoner.

"So what is the plan?" Auron asked, wanting to be certain that they had come to some reasonable conclusions after all this discussion.  
"First we talk to Isaaru," Yuna answered, "and search for Maester Seymour's aeon."  
"Then we go see the old guy in the Calm Lands, and start filling his Arena for him," Tidus added.  
"Sounds good to me, brudda," Wakka added enthusiastically.

Rikku bounced happily in her chair. Lulu shook her head in weary resignation. Kimahri had been quiet through the discussion, but he seemed content, because Yuna was clearly agreeing to the scheme. Auron and Mercy looked at each other across the table. She winked at him, then waited to see how he would react as she wrapped her booted legs around one of his, under the narrow table. His mouth twitched, then she saw the glint of mischief in his eye, as he raised his eyebrow. _This is all going to work_, she thought.

Tidus watched them together; he could almost see the shimmer in the air between them as they looked at each other. _I have to tell her the rest of what the fayth said,_ he realized._ And I think I better do it now, before I lose my nerve._ _She has a right to know. Whether she tells the old man, well, that's her decision_.

"We should go see if Isaaru is still in Bevelle," Yuna said.  
"Let's ask Pops to check with his new gadget. He'll be able to locate him in a jiffy," Rikku chimed in.  
"All right, we'll go to the bridge and ask him," Yuna replied, a little uncertainly.  
"I'll go with you," Wakka announced, and so they began to leave the room, with Kimahri guarding Yuna, as always. They hesitated at the threshold, turning to look at Lulu, still seated at the table.  
Lulu said, "Please go, I would like to remain here. I need to…think…for a while." The rest of the party filed out. Yuna, Rikku, Kimahri and Wakka headed for the bridge.

Tidus lagged behind, and Mercy stuck with him, guessing that something was wrong, but not sure what. Even Auron was puzzled by his odd behavior. After they turned a corner, Tidus stopped walking, and asked, "Mercy, can I, uh, talk with you, just for minute?"  
"Sure, what's up?"  
"I mean, well, what I meant was, uh, can I talk to you, alone?" he finally managed to say, while scuffing the sole of his shoe against the floor. Then he looked up at her, his eyes pleading.  
She exchanged a brief glance with Auron, and nodded. Her husband said, "I was going to see Rin about some armor. I'll be back," and walked quickly through the far door.

As soon as they were alone, Tidus said sadly, "There's something I have to tell you. I learned something from the fayth. Something about Zanarkand. Our Zanarkand." He went on in a rush. "The city is a dream of the fayth. Mercy, when we destroy Yu Yevon, the dream will end. We will…vanish. I thought…I thought you should know."  
"Have you told Yuna?" she asked.  
"No. I don't know if I can. Will you…will you tell Auron?"  
"He already knows the city is a dream. He's known that all along. He's always wondered what would happen if Yu Yevon was destroyed. Now, we know," she sighed.  
"Then what will you do? How can you stand it?" his voice was shaking with emotion.  
She stood close to him, and placed her hands on his shoulders. He put his hands on her waist, then leaned forward until his forehead rested against hers, and their arms clasped loosely around each other. He could see that her eyes were bright with unshed tears, and he knew that his own face was wet.

They were concentrating so intently on each other, that neither saw the black mage peering around the corner at one end of the corridor. _What is this?_ Lulu thought nastily, as she observed their easy, intimate embrace. _I wonder what Auron would think if he could see his wife now? Or poor Yuna_. The mage shook her head sadly. _They look so…cozy. I just wish I could hear what they are saying to each other. It might be…interesting_, she decided sarcastically.

_It's time_, Mercy decided. _I have to tell him. I have to take this one worry off his shoulders_. "Tidus, honey," she whispered, "don't worry about me. I should have told you this sooner, anyway."

"Told me what?" he asked sharply.  
"I could have stayed in our Zanarkand, you know." She temporized as she brushed away his tears with her hand. "Daf and Marko escaped to the hills, I could have gone with them. I stayed in the city until the last minute, because I wanted to be with Auron until the end. After he left, the fayth offered me a chance to come to Spira. I took it. But, you see, there was a catch. I had to ride Sin to come to Spira, and there was only one way that could happen for me. I am…like Auron now. I am unsent."  
He shook his head against hers. He didn't want to believe it, but he did. It made too much sense.  
"If we defeat Yu Yevon, and survive, Yuna will have to send me as soon as the battle is over. So I will not vanish. I will go to the Farplane. Whatever that means." Her disbelief was still evident in her tone.  
"What will Auron do?" Tidus asked, with a hitch in his voice.  
"Ask him yourself," she responded, as the door opened and Auron stepped through it.

Lulu waited breathlessly to see what would happen. She expected Tidus and Mercy to spring apart guiltily, and Auron to exhibit a jealous rage. _Maybe they will even fight_, she half-hoped, half-feared. Then the mage saw that she must have read the entire scene completely and utterly wrong. Mercy and Tidus slid one arm around each other, and opened their hug on the other side, to welcome Auron into it. Auron looked down into their tear-stained faces, then he stepped forward, and into their embrace, wrapping his arms around them both.

End Chapter Twenty-Nine


	30. Everybody Wants to Rule the World

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. "The Stuff that Dreams are Made of" was written and performed by Carly Simon. "The Last Worthless Evening" was written by Don Henley, John Corey and Stan Lynch and performed by Don Henley. The title of this chapter is from a song by Tears for Fears.

* * *

Isaaru was still in Bevelle, according to the ship's oscillo-finder device. Yuna and Kimahri located him easily, and he seemed willing enough to come with them to the airship. It was not that the sight of the Ronso towering over him intimidated him into compliance. Isaaru simply no longer cared enough about his own fate to be concerned about Yuna's request. In truth, he had found it difficult to be concerned about much of anything since his pilgrimage had ended. As he had sunk further and further into listless depression, Maroda had finally taken Pacce away, and left him completely alone. Yuna's visit was the first time he had stirred himself in several days. 

But when Yuna led Isaaru into the room that the party had used for their earlier meeting, he discovered that he had, after all, some spark still left inside him, or at least, some instinct towards self-preservation. _I believe I face a tribunal, and these are my judges_, he thought. _Am I to be punished for my deeds in the Via Purifico? It would be fitting. I challenged she who will be the next High Summoner. It is their right. But when Lady Yuna invited me here, she said that they merely wished to talk with me. I refuse to believe that Lady Yuna lied to me. That is not possible_. As Yuna took her place at the table, Isaaru saw eight faces turned mostly towards him. On his left, Yuna sat with the young man who claimed to be from Zanarkand, Tidus, with the Ronso standing behind them. To his right, the black mage, Lulu, the blitzer, Wakka, and the Al Bhed, Rikku. Standing against the far wall, Sir Auron was half-turned towards the windows; surprisingly close to a dark-haired swordswoman whose presence caught him by surprise. Isaaru wondered if Yuna had acquired yet another guardian

"Lady Yuna, I do not understand why you have brought me here. Surely, you have already been to Zanarkand. What need have you for a failed summoner such as I?" Isaaru asked, despair choking his voice.  
"Lord Isaaru," Yuna began, but he interrupted her. "I am only Isaaru now, Lady Summoner."  
"Lord Isaaru," she continued, steel in her voice, "you can still summon, can you not?"  
"Yes."  
"Then, Lord Isaaru, we have invited you here because we do need your help," Yuna continued.  
"But you have won our challenge. You have met Lady Yunalesca and received the Final Aeon. What possible assistance could I provide?" Isaaru's voice carried a note of self-pity.  
"We received nothing from Yunalesca," Auron said through clenched teeth. "She had nothing to give but death." Isaaru's mouth opened in shock at the older guardian's blasphemy.

"We fought Yunalesca, and defeated her," Tidus explained.  
Isaaru turned to Yuna. "Lady, please, tell me that this is not so!" he shouted.  
"Isaaru, it is so. Lady Yunalesca is no more. She showed us her true face. She was a fiend. She tried…to kill us all. We did what was necessary. For Spira. You must listen to us. You must understand," she cried in return.  
"Nooooo!" Isaaru wailed.

_This boy is an idiot_, Auron thought. _And I have heard more than enough of this_. "That is enough," his voice cut the air. "Do you want to know what happened to those summoners and their guardians who reached Zanarkand? Do you know what Yunalesca asked of every summoner who reached her? Do you know the choice you would have faced if you had met Yunalesca?" His voice rose in fury with each word, as Isaaru's head swiveled back and forth between the dark guardian and his young summoner.  
Mercy heard her husband's anger and just knew he was going to keep on going. _Damn it, man, the point is to get him on our side, not scare him to death!_ "Auron," she warned, her voice low, as she laid her hand on his arm.  
Auron heard her, but he couldn't stop himself from continuing, "Yunalesca offered every summoner who reached her a choice. She asked them to choose which guardian they would sacrifice to become the fayth for the final summoning." He stared the younger man down. "Which of your brothers would you have chosen to become your fayth?"

Isaaru turned fully back to Yuna in horror. "Lady Yuna, is this…abomination…true?"  
She bowed her head for a moment, then raised her face to meet his eyes, "Yes, it is true."  
Isaaru blindly stumbled to the table, and fell awkwardly into a chair. His head dropped into his hands. "My brothers…I could not have done it. Not even for Spira."

"But once you knew the truth, Yunalesca would not allowed any of you to just…walk away." Auron's voice was still gruff, but calmer now.  
"Oh, Yevon," Isaaru cried out in anguish.  
"I know, man, it's tough to even think about, ya," Wakka said in empathy. _I know what it's like to lose a brother_, the big man thought. _I might be lacking in the imagination department, like Lu says, but this, this I know_.

Isaaru eventually recovered himself enough to ask, "Why? What was the purpose of it?"  
Lulu was the one who answered. "At the core of Sin is an ancient summoner, Yu Yevon. Every time Sin was defeated with the Final Aeon, Yu Yevon used the Final Aeon to create a new Sin, and thus was Sin reborn." _She needs to display her knowledge, even in this situation_, Mercy realized. _It's that important to her. I wonder…this may explain a few things_.

Isaaru searched out Auron's face. "High Summoner Braska?" he asked.  
"Jecht," Auron ground out harshly.

Isaaru looked around the room again, visibly counting. _But Yuna has all the guardians I met before, plus the woman with Sir Auron. In light of what I have just learned, this makes no sense_, he decided. "But, Lady Yuna, you seem to have more guardians than you did before. What happened in Zanarkand?"  
Yuna replied, "I would not sacrifice any of my guardians for a false hope."  
Auron continued, "That is why Lady Yunalesca attacked us. She refused to let so many of us leave with the knowledge of her great secret."  
Tidus continued, "Besides, we think there is a way to destroy Sin, and Yu Yevon, without the Final Aeon. We have to try."

"And that is where you come in," Mercy went on.  
"But who are you?" Isaaru was clearly bewildered.  
"Lady Mercy is Sir Auron's wife," Yuna interjected. Isaaru had started to get up, but he collapsed back into the chair at that announcement.

Mercy ignored his reaction. _I'm starting to get used to it, I suppose_. "We believe we have a way to defeat Sin and Yu Yevon, but we are not certain. We won't know until we try, and then it will be too late. All your 'teachings' point to Yunalesca, and the Final Aeon. Now they lead to an empty ruin. I don't know if you believe what we've just told you, or not. I hope so, but frankly, it doesn't matter. We only ask that you keep an open mind, and most important, that you remember what we have said. If we fail, we beg you, please go to Zanarkand and see for yourself. Please promise us that you will do that much. It is all that we ask."

Auron listened to his wife, and examined his own behavior during the group's recent discussions, and came to an unfortunate conclusion. _We are directing things too much_, he decided. _Both of us_, he reflected. _We must step back, and let them take charge. We should not…remain here…after Yu Yevon is defeated. This will be their world…soon. They must learn to manage it for themselves_. He looked over at Mercy. _And she is not going to like hearing this, I am certain_, he thought dryly.

Isaaru felt a sense of purpose return to him, something he had not been aware of in what seemed like a very long time. He would have cheerfully agreed to anything just to keep that feeling alive in his heart. He met each of their eyes in turn, then replied, "I give you my word. If you fight Sin, and do not return, I will go in your place. But please tell me, what is your strategy?" he asked, smiling shyly.  
So they eagerly gathered around the table to discuss timetables, methods and tactics for the better part of the afternoon.

After Isaaru left, they all agreed that it was time to head toward Tidus' submerged temple, a location Rikku identified as Baaj, to see if it was the location of Seymour's aeon. Besides, Tidus had a score to settle with the fiend that lived in the ruins. He was really looking forward to meeting it again, especially since he would have Wakka and Rikku to back him up this time.  
"How long will it take us to reach this place?" Mercy asked Rikku.  
"I dunno, I'll ask my dad," the girl replied.  
"Let me come with you, I'd like to ask him something myself," Mercy said in response.  
"Sure thing," Rikku chirped.  
Auron shot her a questioning look, but Mercy pantomimed playing a keyboard, and he understood. It had something to do with her music. That was all he needed to know for the moment. _We can talk later_, he decided. _We will most likely argue later, and I am glad of the excuse to postpone the inevitable_, he admitted to himself.

On the way to the bridge, Mercy prompted Rikku, "Remember when we met, and I asked you about music machina?"  
"Yeah, sure I do," the girl chirped.  
"Well, is there a cargo hold or some place like that, where your dad keeps a lot of machina, or spare parts?" the older woman continued.  
"Sure there is. But do you really think the music machina you're looking for might be mixed in with Pops' spares?"  
"Maybe. Probably no one here would recognize one of the little beasts. Not the way that…" Mercy's voice choked, stopped. _Dafydd_.  
Rikku saw the grief on the woman's face, didn't know what to do to cheer her. "You okay?" she asked quietly, patting Mercy on the shoulder awkwardly.  
"I'm okay. I was just thinking about my brother, that's all. He used to love looking for old music machina that he could play with. He would be in raptures at the idea of going through your dad's 'spares'. And…we used to sing together." Mercy's voice caught. "I miss him."  
In a quiet voice, Rikku said, "Would you tell me a little, about Zanarkand?"  
Mercy made an effort to shake herself out of her dark mood. "I'll make you a deal. I know you said you'd help me search for my music machina. In return, I'll tell you all you want about Zanarkand. Deal?"  
"You bet!" Rikku responded enthusiastically, as the doors to the bridge opened.

"Hey, Pops, when will we get to Baaj?" Rikku asked Cid.  
"Tomorrow morning soon enough for you?" the captain boomed in reply.  
"Sure, Pops," his daughter answered back.  
"Cid, can I ask you for a favor?" Mercy cut in.  
"And what might that be, little lady?" he replied, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.  
"I understand you have a cargo hold with some spare machina and parts. I was wondering if I could take a look through it, see if I could find a music machina I need," Mercy responded.  
"Music machina? Sure, no problem. Take what you want. Good luck makin' anything in that junk pile work," he hooted. He continued laughing to himself, thinking that the lady sure had her work cut out for her, just trying to even sort through that mess.  
"Don't worry about me. If I can find what I'm looking for, I can make it work. Thanks, Cid." Mercy turned to Rikku. "You ready to help?"  
"Ready and willing," the girl said eagerly.  
"Then let's go," Mercy started towards the door, rubbing her hands together in anticipation of the search.

Rikku led her to down to one of the lower decks, into a dimly lit corridor lined with identical metallic doors. "I think it's five left, six right," Rikku said, as she began counting off the doorways. When the young girl counted off what she thought was the right number, she opened the door to discover…barrels of flour, rice, oats and other such foodstuffs. "Oopsie," the girl said sheepishly.  
Mercy opened the door across from Rikku, and asked, "Do you think this is it?" not sounding certain whether she hoped the answer would be yes, or no.  
Rikku turned and stood beside her. "Yep," she answered, chirpier now, "that's the one. I've been here before. This is definitely it."  
"Oh, shit," Mercy said, on a somewhat theatrical sigh. "I guess a girl's gotta do, what a girl's gotta do. This is pretty awful. But we might as well get to it. How about we each take one side of the door, and work our way around, opposite directions? Maybe we can at least cover some of this 'junk pile' before dinner. You still up for this, Rikku?"  
"Sure, Mercy. I'll stick with you. I promised," the girl said earnestly. "And don't worry, I remember everything you told me about what to look for."  
Mercy sighed again. "I'm not worried about you. I'm worried about this," she waved her hand at the disorganized piles of scrap parts scattered around the small hold. "I'm just grateful that music machina were such a niche market, that the machines were always pretty distinctive. We'll know one when we see one, if it's not in too many pieces. That possibility does worry me, but there's nothing I can do about it. Let's just get started."

As they worked, Rikku peppered Mercy about life in the machina city for the first hour or so, until they both became too focused on the search to concentrate on conversation. Eventually, Mercy realized that her tunic was sticking to her back with a nasty combination of sweat and dirt, plus grease from the machina she was handling, so she stripped it off, and used it to wipe her face. The black sports bra she wore underneath was more than adequate coverage. Rikku's orange top was streaked with gray dirt and black grease. Neither woman was sure it could even be salvaged.

After about two and a half hours, Rikku felt like she was going to die of thirst. She went over to where Mercy was sifting through a huge box of parts and asked, "Hey, you want to take a break and get something to drink? I'm really thirsty."  
Mercy unbent her back, and unconsciously started trying to massage the crick out of her spine as she spoke. "I think I'm on to something. I've found some spare bits that I'm pretty sure are part of a Yamatoya, and I really want to see if the rest of it's in this box. I'm okay, but why don't you go?" Mercy paused, "but if you could bring me back something, that'd be great."  
"If you're sure," Rikku asked uncertainly, her desperate need for a break warring with her conscience.  
"I'm sure," Mercy answered decisively. "You go. I'll be fine. Just bring me back a drink. Okay?"  
"Okay!" Rikku replied happily. As she headed towards the door, the girl said, "I'm going to prop something under this door, to keep it from closing all the way, so I can tell which one it is when I come back."  
"Makes sense to me," the swordswoman replied, her head already bent over the box again. "Don't worry about me. I'll see you in a bit."  
Rikku skipped down the hall to the elevator, heading towards a cool drink and a few minutes of rest and relaxation.

Mercy was totally focused on the contents of the box in front of her. The wires she saw leading downward looked like they were still attached, and she was trying so hard not to get her hopes up as she removed the layers of parts above her goal. About half an hour after Rikku left, she finally hit pay dirt, more or less. She had found the guts of an old Yamatoya instrumentation/backup machine just like one of the more basic ones that Daf used to use. This meant two things to her: one, that she should be able to program it herself; and two, that the casing should hopefully be around here someplace. However, now that she had reached her goal, she realized that she had another problem; she was doubled over the edge of the box, her hands barely reached the machine, her feet were no longer touching the ground, and all the blood was rushing to her head. But she was afraid to bounce herself off the side of the box, for fear of jarring something loose, now that she had found her precious machina. She was stuck.

Auron had realized not long after the 'conference' with Isaaru had broken up, that he had never found out the reason for the emotional scene he had been a part of earlier with Mercy and Tidus. Just as they had released each other, Rikku had opened the door behind him to announce that Yuna and Kimahri were on their way back with Isaaru, and then Lulu had come clattering down the corridor, and there had been no opportunity since. So, he had spent the past three hours trying to locate Tidus, in increasing annoyance, but without success. The young man had always 'just left' whatever location he himself had just arrived in, and he had finally given up in disgust and gone in search of his wife. One of the ship's crew had directed him to this dark, lower-level corridor when he had inquired about 'cargo holds' and he looked at the line of identical metal doors and was certain he would have to open each one. He found two rooms of dry food storage, and one sealed room marked 'Property of Rin's Travel Agencies', before he turned the corner. His frustration mounted with each door that did not lead to his goal. Then he noticed light spilling into the corridor at floor level from the propped-open left-hand door, and he knew his search was over.

Auron stepped into the cluttered hold, and was greeted with the sight of his wife's heart-shaped ass poised over the edge of a crate. He stopped thinking about anything at all, except getting his hands on her, as quickly as possible. He stripped off his glove and shrugged out of his coat as he moved swiftly through the debris.  
She knew it was him before he reached her, just from the sound of his boots and the rustle of his long coat. At first, she just thought he'd get her out, not realizing the tantalizing picture she presented. Then she felt his hands kneading her backside, and she heard the harsh rasp of his breath as he asked, "My lady, may I help you?" in a low, husky voice.  
The sound of his voice, the touch of his fingers, made Mercy's temperature rise. She stretched out her hand, brushed it against his thigh, reached up a little higher, and found that he was already hard. She heard his breath hitch as she rubbed her hand against him teasingly for a few seconds.  
"You could help me up," she eventually replied, fairly steadily she thought, for someone hanging upside down.  
"I could throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here," he responded, his voice still low.  
She could tell that he was seriously considering the idea. "Love, I'm going to pass out down here. Help me up while you think about it. 'kay?" She put her arms straight back behind her, in a gesture clearly meant for him to haul her out of the box. He did, pulling her back into his arms immediately and holding her close, her back against his chest. He kept her butt snugged tight against his groin, by splaying one his hands low on her abdomen, and wrapped his other arm around her upper chest, caressing the bare skin of her midriff, brushing his arm over her breasts. Her head lay back against his shoulder and he took advantage of her position to nuzzle her neck. She started making incoherent murmurs of pleasure, because she felt like even her bones were melting.

As soon as the room's spinning slowed a little, Mercy lifted her head, and he loosened his hold, so she could turn and face him. She wound her arms around his neck, and pulled his head down for a long, brain-fogging kiss. When they both came up for air, she finally asked, "What brought you here?" in a low, purring voice.

His mind was a blank. From his perspective, the sight of her butt perched on the edge of that box had been reason enough to look for her. He was cupping her ass in his hands, and debating between 'against the wall, fast, now' and 'in bed, in the cabin, slow, in ten minutes', and 'now' was winning. He vaguely remembered that there had been something else on his mind when he came down here, but it took him several seconds to wrench his brain around to rational thought. When it finally came back to him, he moved his hands up to her waist, as the expression on his face shifted. He leaned over, letting his forehead touch hers. "There is something that we need to discuss," he said, in a serious tone.  
"Can't it wait?" she replied, pretending to pout.  
"Probably not," he answered, shaking his head.  
"Well, then…" she prompted him.  
"This afternoon, with Isaaru…and yesterday…the last three days," his brain almost seized in shock. _Has it only been three days? It feels like a lifetime_, he realized"We have been…directing things too much," he stammered out.  
"The last three days," she repeated. "What is this 'we'? You mean me, don't you?" she accused, sliding out of his arms and stepping back.  
"No, I meant both of us," he denied hotly, shaking his head for emphasis.  
"What were you doing before, then?" she spat back.  
His expression turned wry, almost amused for a moment. "Tidus or Rikku would say I was 'grumping' from the back, most likely. I did not 'take charge' of anything, except in battle. Now that you are here, I have been…different," he told her.  
"I think you're still saying it's my fault somehow," she replied, her voice still a little petulant. She heard the tone of her own voice and decided, _I have to stop this. He's being serious, and I'm being childish_.  
"Maybe," he admitted. "Because you're here, I am not…hiding in the shadows. And you were right when you said that we both like to be in charge. I have been allowing myself to do that. And it has to stop."  
"And you want me to stop, as well," she queried.  
"Yes."  
"And your explanation would be…" she demanded.  
"They will become too dependent on us," he said gravely. "It is often easier to let others make the decisions. Especially now, when everything is in such a state of disarray."  
"And they are all willing to trust you, because of what you told me earlier, the whole 'legendary guardian' business," she said, thinking out loud, but realizing when he flinched that the words had stung.  
"And they will trust you, because you are my wife," he shot back, knowing that would sting her equally. He knew she would dislike a respect that was not properly earned as much as he did.  
"Except for Lulu. I believe that ship has already sailed," she replied archly. Then Mercy had a sudden, brilliant flash of insight. _But I think the whole 'trust' thing is part of Lulu's big issue with me. That must be it. I waltzed in here and I can say anything I want, come up with any wild theory, and everybody listens. I get instant respect, just because of Auron. She's lost her position as the alpha female, and she resents it double because she figures I didn't even earn it. And he didn't even give her a tumble. No wonder she's pissed_.  
Auron grimaced, acknowledging the accuracy of her strike. "Enough."

"But why does it matter who runs the show, as long as we get the job done? We would do it more efficiently, more effectively, if we took control," she stated.  
"You are right," he acknowledged. "But we…should not remain here long…after the last battle. The unsent should not interfere with the living," he continued quietly. "The others, especially Yuna, must be able to manage for themselves after Yu Yevon is defeated. They will not learn if we do not let them."  
"But you could stay, if they needed you?" Mercy probed.  
"We could, but I think it would be wrong. It will be their world. We should leave them to it," he stated firmly.  
"Auron…I…Tidus…when the dreamers finally rest, the dream will…end," she stuttered. "Tidus and I…we're part of the dream. I told him that I'd be okay, that Yuna could send me…but he'll just…vanish." Tears began to fall down her cheeks. "It won't be his world, after all." _Daf…and Marko, I don't know what will happen to them_.  
He folded her gently into his arms again. "I will be with you. Yuna will send us both when the time comes." _Poor Yuna. If she manages to bring the Eternal Calm, she will lose all she holds dear. Braska, I am sorry. I know you hoped for better for your daughter_. _I…I certainly did_.

She stared up into his face, reached up to touch his cheek. "I'm still not sure about this Farplane of yours. You know that, don't you?" _I am afraid_, she thought. _And I am tired of death. I feel alive. I want to feel everything I can, every, single second. Starting right now_.  
Sadly, he admitted, "Yes, my lady, I do."  
"Auron," she murmured against his lips, as her arm slid around his neck, and she balanced on her toes, bringing her mouth near his, "do you know if they do this on the Farplane?" she whispered enticingly, as she brushed her mouth against his, and her tongue flicked against his lips. He growled as his mouth opened greedily over hers.

Rikku rushed down the corridor with Mercy's drink in her hand, muttering to herself in disbelief because she had been gone for so long and she was just sure that Mercy was going to be real mad at her for leaving her alone way too long with that awful mess. But when the door slid up, the unbelievable image that greeted the Al Bhed was one that she swore later was going to be burned into her retinas for the rest of her life. Mercy was with Auron, well, he was with her, no, it was really an open mouthed, full body kiss that looked like it was going to go on forever. She couldn't see where their hands were, and, she decided, she didn't want to know. She was sure she'd seen too much as it was. Rikku closed her eyes, tight. _Nobody ever kissed me like that_, she thought. _If anybody ever did…Wow! That must really be something. No wonder she fell in love with him. If I'd known he could do that…NO…best not to even think about that. But someday, I want to feel like that about someone_. She cracked open one eye, and saw that they were both watching her now, amusement lighting both their faces. Rikku was too embarrassed to look at Auron, so kept her eyes focused on Mercy's face, and didn't see that Auron was blushing as furiously as she herself was.

Rikku started talking fast, wanting to discuss anything except the scene she had just witnessed. "I'm sorry it took me so long. I had to go halfway around the ship, and I ran into some of the crew, and Buddy wanted to talk about some problem he's having with Brother, and the time just got away from me. I'm so sorry. I hope you're not mad at me," the girl added, imploringly.  
"It's okay, Rikku. Don't worry about it. Just let me have that drink," Mercy answered, laughing. "Besides, I found the insides for one of the music machina I'm familiar with in that box over there, so I know we're on the right track. I'd probably forgive you anything, as long as you didn't crush my 'baby', now that I've found one."  
Rikku was all enthusiasm. "You mean you really found one?"  
"Yep. It's all the way at the bottom. Auron's going to have to get it out for us, though. My arms aren't long enough." Mercy turned to her husband. "Would you please do the honors?" she requested politely.  
"Of course, my lady. Where is this creature?" he replied, with equal mock-formality. He quickly rescued the music machina from its temporary burial site, while Rikku located a much smaller box to use as a container until its own could be located or something more suitable could be contrived for it.

"Rikku, it's got to be past dinner time. I think I'm ready to take a break for the night. But I'd like to try to find the casing for that baby the next time we have some spare time aboard ship. I hope you'll still be willing to help?" Mercy asked the girl.  
"Yeah, sure I would," Rikku replied eagerly. "I promised, after all. Besides, I need to make up for bailing out on you today, don't I?"  
"I'm just glad to have your help. Not to mention your company," Mercy sighed in relief. "This would have been incredibly dull without you."  
"Glad to help," the girl chirped, her face still fairly pink as she left.  
Now that they were alone, Mercy turned back to Auron. "How about we continue this upstairs," she teased, as she slid her arms around his neck.

The ship dropped them beside the ruins of Baaj Temple in the morning. _Whatever submerged this place did a pretty thorough job of it_; Mercy thought, _since there sure isn't a whole lot above the waterline now_. _I know that Tidus and Rikku said that the inside of the temple is still mostly watertight, but I wonder how long it will stay that way. I could tell that Tidus definitely enjoyed settling the score with the monster outside the temple, with Wakka's and Rikku's help_, Mercy observed fondly. _I was just as glad to sit this one out on dry land. What there is of it in this place_, she thought sarcastically. _At least they cleared the way for the rest of us. All it took was one quick swim, and then we were all inside. But_, she wondered, _now that we're here, what are we supposed to do?_

Tidus had been right, there was definitely something here. The problem was, they couldn't figure out exactly what. There was a door at one end of the room, but they could not quite reach it. Lulu walked slowly from statue to statue, peering at the symbols behind each one, returning to the barred door to study the symbols that protected it. Finally, the mage solved the riddle. "This is the Cloister of Trials," she said at last. "This one room is the trial. The symbols behind the statues represent the temples. See, there is one for each temple, Besaid, Kilika, Djosé, Macalania, and Bevelle."  
"So what's the last one for?" Tidus asked.  
"These same symbols were on the points of the lift that descended to the chamber of the fayth in Zanarkand," Lulu continued. "Therefore, I believe the last statue must represent Zanarkand. We must go back. There is still something there that we must do, before Yuna can enter this Chamber." They all turned to Yuna, waiting for her to decide their next move, now that they were more certain that some fayth did reside in the chamber beyond.  
Yuna stood silent for a few moments, considering. "I think we should go to the Calm Lands next, to the Arena…I don't think that we are ready to go back to Zanarkand…yet," she finished uncertainly.  
"As you wish," Auron responded.  
Mercy reflected on what she had just witnessed. Lulu was clearly the 'expert' in the group, the one who always had all the answers, the one everyone else looked up to. _I'm sure of it now. It's my supposed 'status' she envies, a hell of a lot more than she's jealous about Auron. I imagine she was even a little miffed when Auron showed up, and suddenly he was the expert. She'd never admit that, not even to herself, I bet. Then I appeared, and she dropped another notch in the pecking order. I'm amazed she hasn't sent a Firaga up my nose long before now, since she doesn't dare touch him._  
"Then let's get back to the ship, ya?" Wakka prompted.  
"Yeah!" Tidus responded enthusiastically. "Let's go."

It was late afternoon when they returned to the ship. Mercy and Rikku headed back to the cargo hold with renewed energy, hopeful that the rest of the machina they were looking for would be in there, somewhere. It helped that Mercy now knew exactly which one to look for, and could give Rikku a specific description, based on the parts she had already located. They found the casing within an hour, and, working together with surgical precision, had the machine fixed in less than two hours. _It sure helps a lot when you know what you were looking for_, Mercy decided.

Rikku had been a little shy as they worked, not asking nearly as many questions as the day before. She was trying to work up her courage to ask something personal, and it took her a little time. As Mercy started to program the machine to test it, Rikku finally started working her way around to what she really wanted to know. "Uh, can I ask you something, well, personal?"

"You can ask." Mercy replied coolly, but then she smiled up at the girl, to let her know that she meant it kindly. "Don't worry, that's actually kind of a joke," she continued. "Tidus used to ask me personal stuff all the time. The day I met him, I think I answered three quarters of his questions with 'none of your business'. He would ask the same question over and over, in as many different ways as he could think of, just to see if he could trip me up. Of course, he was all of twelve at the time, so his attempts weren't very subtle." The expression on her face was very fond. Then she bent her head back to the control panel of the machina, and her fingers busied themselves with the programming.

"So, how did you meet Tidus, then?" Rikku asked, figuring it was a safe place to start.  
"Auron introduced us. He used to spend Lastdays with Tidus, and he took me with him. We'd known each other about a sennight, then, so I was pretty nervous. I wondered what I would talk about with a kid, not knowing that Tidus would do all the talking. Still does." Mercy grinned.  
"But how did you meet Auron?" Rikku blurted out.  
Mercy closed up the control panel on the machina, wiped her hands together, stood up, and dusted herself off. "My brother and I were performing in a club in Zanarkand. Auron was walking on the street outside, and heard me singing, and came in." She paused and took a breath. "I don't know if this is going to work, but I think I just programmed this machina to do keyboard backup for the song I was singing that night, or at least I sure hope so. I'm a little rusty, and so is this machina, so this might not work too well, but if you're game, I'll try it."  
Rikku perched on a crate. "I can't wait. I'm all ears."

Mercy flipped a couple of switches on the little machina, tried a couple of experimental prayers to whatever deities might possibly exist and watch over performers on Spira, took a deep breath, and waited for the opening bars of 'Desperado'. Her stomach did flip-flops as the machine began to play, but when her cue came; she closed her eyes, and sang from her soul, seeing in her mind the night in Zanarkand when Auron walked in, and her world changed.

Rikku closed her eyes, too, and let the words of the song wash over her. _This is so beautiful_, she thought. _And the story is just so…romantic. I mean, Auron really is the Desperado, isn't he?_ After the song ended, Rikku was practically bouncing with enthusiasm. "Mercy, you should do concerts. On the airship, I mean. You sound so good. It would be so cool. Everyone would come. Would you, please? Think about it, I mean?"  
"I'll think about it, Rikku. I was planning to make some recordings, at least. That's why I wanted the machina. I'm not sure about doing concerts; it's hard for me to think about performing without Dafydd. But I do miss it."  
"Dafydd? Is he your brother?" Rikku inquired.  
"Yes," Mercy replied sadly. "He's in the other Zanarkand."  
Rikku was slightly abashed. "Oh. I'm sorry."  
"Don't be. It's not your fault." Mercy patted Rikku on the shoulder. "I promise I'll think about it, okay?"  
"Okay!" Rikku replied enthusiastically.

Later, Auron found Mercy in their cabin, sitting on their bed, her head bent over the machina. He automatically sat behind her, and began to massage the stiffness out of her back and shoulders. She leaned into his touch with a grateful sigh. "Does it work?" he asked, indicating the little machine.  
"Oh, yes," she answered. "It works all right. It actually sounds pretty good. In fact, Rikku thinks I ought to give concerts." She tilted her head to look at his face. "What do you think?"  
"I think you are still the woman I met in Zanarkand," he replied, as he trailed kisses along her neck. "The one who said that her soul needed the music."  
"You know, I had just intended to make recordings. To leave something behind, in the hope that, when the Calm comes, someone might find them useful, but it's not enough." She sighed. "You're right. I still prefer to sing in front of an audience, even if it's just Rikku." Mercy paused. "I'd rather sing for you. If I give concerts, will you be there?"  
"Always, my lady," he murmured, as he pulled her down onto the bed. As she wrapped her arms around him, she whispered, "Love, I need my music, but not as much as I need you."

In the morning, the airship returned them to the Calm Lands. Tidus decided to train another chocobo before they rode to the Arena. Auron muttered something under his breath to Mercy to the effect that, "We do not have time for this."  
Mercy whispered back fiercely, "Let it go, Auron. You know he has no time but this."

Mercy turned to observe the byplay between Tidus and Yuna before the chocobo race began. _What is going on with them_, she wondered. _They are very much in love with each other, that much is obvious. Auron told me they were lovers before I met everyone, but not since we've been on the airship, at least not from what I've heard. I hope Yuna isn't worried about what people will think, or something equally stupid, now that she's got a chance of surviving. Or is Lulu filling her head with some nonsense like that? I know Tidus hasn't told her that he won't be around after Yu Yevon is gone. Yuna has no idea that now is all they have. She thinks there's plenty of time. I wish there something I could say to make her see otherwise. What we are doing is dangerous! Any of us could fall along the way. Now is all any of us can count on. They can't…we can't afford to waste a second of it_. She took Auron's hand for a moment, clasped it briefly, felt an answering squeeze, and let go. Their eyes met. She mouthed the words, "I love you," soundlessly to him. Surprised, he smiled back, and nodded.

Tidus lost the race with the chocobo trainer. Still, they rented enough of the friendly yellow birds to travel swiftly to the old arena on the eastern edge of the Calm Lands. The old man was glad to see them return, and almost ecstatic when they agreed to help him restock his training ground. But they almost all groaned when they heard they would have to buy his special weapons, it did sound rather like a scam to most of them. _Wakka is the most trusting_, Mercy thought. _He is so sweet; he believes the best of everyone_.

It took them three days to capture one of every kind of creature in the Calm Lands. Three long, wearying, footsore days hiking the length and breadth of the vast plain. Mercy was not totally sorry to have missed the original trip through the place, except for the time she had lost with Auron. _It would have been worth it, just for that_, she thought. _But only for that_, she decided, totally bored with the process as they captured yet another Flame Flan. The party returned to the airship every night, which was a luxury they certainly hadn't had on their earlier passage. The quarters they had occupied had now been permanently assigned to each of them, and had become repositories for spare weapons and extra possessions, so they had become rather like home to them, and had begun to take on the characters of their residents. According to rumor, Rikku's were cluttered, Yuna's, neat as a pin, and no one ever got past the door of Lulu's, since facing the door was a set of moogle dolls staring at any would-be intruder until they fled in terror. Mercy tried not to think about what Tidus' cabin must look like, since she had seen what his houseboat looked like after he moved out on his own. She didn't know Wakka well enough to guess, and she had no idea what Ronso housekeeping was like. She and Auron weren't exactly neat-freaks, either. Or rather, she suspected he had been when he'd been with the warrior-monks, mostly because she knew he hadn't had enough stuff not to be tidy, but she wasn't, and he'd adapted when they'd lived together.

Their task finally completed, they returned to the arena to collect their payment. The old man rewarded them with, among other things, a chest that they couldn't open. Except…when Tidus dropped his pack next to the chest, his pack started to vibrate. It seemed that the cloudy mirror that he had won at Remiem in that chocobo challenge reacted to the box. The mirror wouldn't open the box, but it hummed, just like it did when it came in contact with that crazy map he had picked up as a prize. They hoped that if they figured out what the mirror was for, they could translate the map, and open this box.

Tidus spoke up. "I have an idea. Let's go through Macalania Woods. It'll be a change after all this grassland, and we can pick up a new set of fiends. How about it?"  
Mercy asked, "Could we visit the temple? I think it might be a good idea to speak with the fayth again. To see if they have anything else to say, now that we are decided upon our course." _I want to thank her_, Mercy admitted to herself. She caught Auron's eye. He nodded.  
Yuna agreed, "I think that would be a good idea, to see if we are on the right track. We will go through Macalania."

At Macalania Temple, when Yuna went in to pray to the fayth, Tidus, Auron and Mercy accompanied her, surprising her a bit. Shiva's message was addressed to Tidus, rather than to Yuna, who was clearly puzzled by the fayth's words. Shiva said, "Should the dreaming end, you too will disappearFade into Spira's sea, Spira's sky. But do not weep, nor rise in anger. Even we were once human. That is why we must dream. Let us summon a sea in a new dream world. A new sea for you to swim."  
Tidus wanted to shout; _I don't want a sea in any new dream world! I like this one just fine. I want to stay_, but he kept still. He didn't want to alarm Yuna.  
Shiva then turned to Mercy, saying, "Do you value the gift that we have given?"  
"I…I thought that I was the gift, Milady," Mercy stuttered.  
"Child, do not fail us now, so near the end," the fayth chided her gently.  
Mercy frowned as she thought, very hard for several heartbeats. Then she brushed her hand against Auron's arm, met his eye for a moment, and began to speak, slowly. "Every day is a gift, every hour we have together. From the first…to the last. And these days, here, now…I value them more than my life," she finished quietly.  
"Then you have passed the final test. Child, you have done well. And you have fulfilled all our dreams for this…stubborn guardian. Now it is time for you to dream your own dreams."  
"I know. And I thank you." Mercy bowed to the fayth.  
Auron took Mercy's hand in his. "And I also thank you," he said gravely. "You gave me the greatest gift of all."  
"Guardian, it seemed a fair exchange. We hope that you believe so as well."  
"I believe that I have the best of the bargain," Auron replied, smiling down at his wife.  
"Then we are content," Shiva answered him.

They returned to the airship in the evening. Mercy had spent much of her previous spare time aboard ship programming the machina, and testing it. So on this occasion, she packed up the little machine and told Auron, "I am going to find a place where I can practice. I hope you don't mind."  
"No, go right ahead," he replied calmly. He had been expecting this for some time.  
In less than fifteen minutes there was a knock on the cabin door. It was Tidus. "She's three levels up, all the way forwards. There's a crowd already, and it's growing fast," the younger man said.  
"We'd better go," Auron answered, getting up and heading for the door.  
"Right behind you, boss," Tidus was already talking to the empty air. Auron was halfway down the corridor.

By the time they reached the impromptu concert, Mercy was almost halfway through the songs she had programmed into the machina. Based on the enthusiastic applause at the end of each number, this audience wouldn't care if she repeated every song. Twice. When Auron entered the room, her eyes met his, and her face lit in a dazzling smile. _Yes_, he thought, _this is exactly what she needed. I must thank Rikku. Later_.

She sang to him, as she had so many times before:

It's the stuff that dreams are made of  
It's the slow and steady fire  
It's the stuff that dreams are made of  
It's your heart and soul's desire  
It's the stuff that dreams are made of

And for them, it was, and it always had been, and always would be.

She saw Rin, in the corner of the room, holding up a sphere. _Aieee! He's making a recording_. He winked at her, as though they were making a deal. She nodded back. _I do have a deal for you, Master Rin. We will have to discuss it. Later_.

She had been thinking a lot about Yuna and Tidus while she had been programming the machina, so she had included something she hoped that Tidus would both hear, and understand, even if Yuna did not. Her own 'Last Worthless Evening' had been five years ago, but her boy was spending way too many of them, here and now. She stared hard at Tidus as she sang:

I know you're still afraid to rush into anything  
But there're just so many summers  
And just so many springs

Then she let her gaze wander over the crowd, as she repeated the chorus:

And this is the last worthless evening  
That you'll have to spend  
Just gimme a chance to show you how  
To love again  
This is the last worthless evening  
That you'll have to spend, baby  
'cause I'll be there when your broken heart  
Is on the mend

As she wrapped up the song, out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Wakka staring at Lulu, and just for a second, she saw a stricken look on his face that tore at her heart. Then she turned to Auron, and smiled, and closed, as always, with 'Seven Wonders'. The applause was thunderous in the small space.

End Chapter Thirty


	31. We Are the Champions

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The song "We Are the Champions" was performed by Queen.

* * *

After they had visited the temple the day before, they had only explored a small portion of the woods before they had returned to the open area between the Travel Agency and the temple for the airship to retrieve them. There hadn't been a lot of time to explore the wonders of the Macalania Woods. Because the airship couldn't actually land in the woods, they had to choose, either to start at the frozen lake, or start at the southern end, near the Thunder Plains. They chose to start from the southern end the next morning, mostly because there were a couple of members of the group who still had nightmares about freezing on Gagazet. The Thunder Plains side was a lot warmer. They planned to stay in the woods for several days, collecting fiends for the Arena, so they had packed bedrolls and camping gear, as well as a few days worth of food and clothing. 

Yesterday afternoon, Mercy had been too full of her meeting with the fayth of Macalania to pay proper attention to the woods of Macalania. Now, she looked around her in awe. Once they were completely inside the forest, she stood and tilted her head back, turning around slowly to see everything she could. "Is this place…natural?" she asked breathlessly.  
"What do you mean by that?" Lulu asked impatiently in return. "These are the Macalania Woods. They have always been like this." Her tone implied that the older woman's question had been an exceedingly stupid one.  
Mercy chose not to take offense. "I mean, there's nothing like this where I come from. There were parks in our Zanarkand," she turned to Tidus, who nodded, "with stands of trees. Auron and I went camping in the hills outside the city, and there were forests, with huge trees, but nothing like this. Not these crystals. Or those paths, like that one, over there," she pointed to a translucent path that stretched into the distance high over their heads. "Are all the forests in Spira like this one, or is this one special?"  
Yuna answered her gently. "The Macalania Woods are special. There are no other trees like these anywhere in Spira. There is no place where these crystals grow, except in these woods." The summoner paused, then continued in a softer voice, "My father used to tell me stories, when I was a little girl, of the wondrous creatures that lived here in the secret places, that came out at night to make beautiful music for good little girls." She sighed wistfully. "I guess I always thought this place was magical, because of his stories."  
Lulu stood beside Yuna, and slipped an arm around the younger woman's shoulders. "But Yuna, you know there are legends about the origin of the Macalania Woods. How much of those legends is based on truth, and how much on fantasy and wishful thinking, no one knows." The mage stopped, and considered for a moment, then continued. "There is some power here. I can feel it. But it could just be natural. We are still very close to the Thunder Plains, after all."

They continued moving forwards as they spoke, and arrived at a place where their path branched into three: two ground-based trails led onwards, one to the right, one continuing straight ahead. A third road pointed left, and nearly straight up. Now that they were at the base of one of the overhead trails, Mercy could see that these paths were not merely translucent, but that they positively glowed with energy. _I don't care what anybody says_, she decided, _that has to be magic. It has to be_.

Standing beside the road, in between the two land-bound paths, a woman and a young boy were quietly arguing, as the woman's eyes continuously searched down the paths nervously. The party stopped when they reached her, and Tidus struck up a conversation with her, just being his normal, outgoing, insatiably curious, self. The woman didn't want to trouble them, but the more she tried to withdraw from the conversation, the more Tidus pushed. Her boy, her son as it turned out, did not help the situation, as she was forced to divide her attention between the young man who genuinely wanted to help her, and her own son, who was bored with just standing around waiting for his dad to arrive, which turned out to be the crux of the problem. The woman was waiting for her husband to meet them, and he was late. She was afraid that he had confused their meeting place, but she was certain that if she tried to search for him, he would arrive just as soon as she left, and they'd never find each other, so she had to stay put. Unspoken was the problem of her son's impatience, which was clearly testing her own patience to its limit. She had to catch his arm twice while she was speaking with Tidus, so her dilemma in that regard was all too obvious. In the end, she requested that if they did see her husband while they were traveling, would they please let him know where his family was waiting for him? Tidus promised that they would.

They chose to take the right hand path first, but found few fiends along the way. They came to a milling stop at a crossroads, not quite certain which way to turn.  
Yuna blocked the right hand path, saying, "There is nothing this way except a spring. There were no fiends here before. It is…a peaceful place. I do not think we need to visit…this time." She glanced up at Tidus for a moment, and blushed furiously, then cast her eyes to the ground. Mercy found herself wondering what happened the last time someone visited that spring.  
Auron stepped into the silence, and pointed to the road ahead, gruffly announcing, "That road leads to Bevelle, and back to the Calm Lands. That is not our path, now. I thought our intent was to explore the woods. We should turn around, and go back."  
Just then, a caravan rolled up behind them, both led and surrounded by guards, including a squad of warrior-monks from the temple. "Step aside, step aside, you're blocking the road," the outrider began, pushing at Wakka with the flat of his sword. "We have supplies for the Palace, and we must not be delayed," the guard-captain continued, full of his own self-importance.  
Wakka opened his mouth as if to protest, and Lulu practically shoved him off the path to the left. Everyone else scrambled to follow, until they found themselves in what Mercy could tell were familiar surroundings for the rest of them. It was the place where they had camped the night after they escaped from Bevelle, although she had no way of knowing that fact.

Auron stood alone in a corner of the campground, and his wife decided that he looked like he was lost in thought, or memory, and that it was one that pained him. She left the others and moved to join him. "What is bothering you?" she asked, brushing her hand against his arm.  
He stared over her head, at the others. They were in the midst of a discussion with someone, hopefully the husband of the woman they had met earlier. He dismissed the present concerns, and turned his mind back to the past. He closed his eye, brought the night back to his mind, and his heart. "We camped here, the night we escaped from Bevelle," he began quietly. "I had lost my faith, so long ago. But…the others, Yuna, Wakka, Lulu…they had glimpsed the true face of Yevon for the first time…and had found it corrupt. Their faith in the temples was shattered." He opened his eye, and met hers. "And I hurt for them more than I had imagined was still possible." He turned his face away, and blinked rapidly for a moment, then re-focused on her. "And Kinoc had just been killed, and…although he was part of it, I still wanted to grieve for the friend I had lost."  
Her body was between him and the others, blocking their view. She laid her right hand over his bare left hand, cradled in the sling of his jacket. He looked down at her hand over his, and the tight expression on his face eased a fraction. He went on, "The night we camped here, Yuna went to spring on the other side of the road, alone, to…think, she said. Kimahri went to keep watch over her, but I knew he would not intrude. I expected that we would be declared traitors. I do not know what Yuna thought." He took her hand between both of his. "I sent Tidus to her that night. I knew he would attempt to convince her to give up her pilgrimage. That night, if he had succeeded, I knew that I would not try to convince her otherwise."  
Mercy gasped in shock, even as she filed away another tidbit of information about this mysterious spring. "I'm not sure I believe what you just said. You mean you were willing to set aside your duty? After ten years?" Her voice slightly bitter, she continued, "If I'd known that's what the secret was, I'd have found a temple to declare me a traitor a long time ago." She saw instantly, from the look on his face, that she had wounded him, and she tried to take the words back, bringing her other hand up to clasp around his, murmuring apologetically, "I'm sorry, love, I shouldn't have said that," as she did.  
"No, I'm sorry," he said in a voice suddenly choked with emotion. "Was I that bad?" he asked, full of concern. He wanted to hold her, but the others were too close by, and kept looking their way, trying to figure out what was going on. He felt exposed, both to them, and to his wife.  
"No, love, you weren't that bad," she reassured him, caressing his hand between hers. "It wasn't like that. Your duty made you who you are. Without it, you wouldn't have come to me. And…you didn't really talk about it much, except at the very beginning…and the last three months. But I could always tell when you were thinking about it. The expression on your face…I just knew. And I always knew it was there, waiting, and that one day, it would take you away, and that there was nothing I could do to stop it." She squeezed his hands tightly, blinking back tears.  
He squeezed back, rubbed her fingers with his. Then he spoke in a softer voice. "The night we camped here…I dreamed of our wedding. I remembered thinking then, that if you were here, that you would be 'Lady Mercy' the second the judge pronounced us husband and wife. I remembered wishing desperately that there were a way to get you here. And I woke up reaching for you next to me. And here you are." _My gift…my miracle, and_, he suddenly decided, _much more important than my dignity_. He pulled her into his arms, and hugged her close for a few moments, resting his cheek against her hair. He heard her soft sigh, as her arms slid around his back, as she held him just as tightly.  
As soon as he lifted his head, she looked up into his face, smiling gently. "I love you," she whispered.  
"I love you, too, my lady," he answered, his voice low. Then he released her, and she stepped back. He paced forward, next to her, and they returned to join the others, discovering that the man who had captured everyone else's attention while they had been occupied had been the father of the impatient boy they had met at the earlier fork in the road. Yuna expressed the hope that the father would rejoin his family before the boy managed to escape his mother.  
Mercy and Tidus looked at each other, and Mercy rolled her eyes. Tidus started to laugh. "Not much hope there," he replied, grinning.

Tidus was right. By the time they returned to that fork in the path, the parents of the boy had found each other…but the child was nowhere in sight. Tidus immediately struck up a conversation with them, while most of the party ranged around. At first, neither parent seemed to want to admit that the boy was really gone, or that there was any problem that they couldn't handle themselves.  
"The solution is obvious," Auron muttered to Mercy, "we split up and search while they remain here. But how long will it take them to admit it?" he continued grumpily.  
Mercy raised her eyes to the treetops, in exasperation. _Thank goodness we're too far away for anyone to hear him_, she observed gratefully. "Auron, if she thinks she's imposing on us, this is going to take twice as long," she hissed back at him. "So shut up and stop looking like a thundercloud!" He blinked at her in astonishment, and tried to school his face into a more neutral expression. "That's better," she whispered in a softer tone. "Poor woman, she has enough to deal with between the boy and her husband."  
He half turned to face her, as she continued to face forwards, watching Tidus handle the scene with the young parents. "What about you? You have to 'deal with me' every day," he challenged.  
She turned her head to look up into his face, then her eyes swept over him, lingered on his mouth as she licked her own lips suggestively, then her gaze grew warmer as her eyes continued to fall, down past his shoulders, chest and abdomen, to linger again at his groin. Her fingers pulled her tunic slightly away from her neck, as though the garment had suddenly gotten too warm for her, exposing the upper swell of her breast. His eye followed her hand, and saw that her nipples had budded visibly against her shirt. "From my perspective," she whispered seductively, "dealing with you has its…compensations."  
He swallowed, hard. "Not tonight," he growled in frustration. "We will be camping with the others, remember?"  
_And you think we're going wait until we're back on the ship? I don't think so_, she decided. "We'll just have to…think of something," she replied, grinning wickedly.  
He let his hand rest at the base of her spine, as he stared down into her eyes, and the valley between her breasts. "We had better…or you will distract me too much," he agreed, his voice low.

Just then, everyone else turned, as Tidus concluded his conversation with the lost child's parents. The party drew together to decide on a search strategy. "Okay," Tidus began. "We know the kid isn't on the path we just came through, so that leaves the other three."  
"There are no fiends on the sky paths," Lulu stated. "At least, there were none on either of my pilgrimages. That road is relatively safe," the mage concluded.  
"Then we split up," Auron decided. He met Mercy's amused gaze. _I know_, he thought at her. _But this has gone on far too long_. "Tidus, Rikku, you go up the sky path. Kimahri, and Yuna take the south road. The rest of us will head north, deeper into the woods. When you find the boy, return here and send up a spell, or Rikku, you must have something in your kit that will substitute. Now go!" he ordered.

In less than half an hour, a grenade exploded high in the sky, and they hurried back to the meeting point through the winding paths of the woods. Mercy was glad to rejoin Tidus and the others, both because it was clear that he and Rikku had found the boy, and because she wanted a few more people as a buffer between herself and Lulu. _I know I'm going to have to settle things with that girl one of these days_, Mercy decided, _but not today. She's so suspicious of every move I make, it's downright annoying. And what's up with her and Wakka? Or should I say, Wakka and her? I'll have to ask someone…maybe Rikku will tell me. I think Wakka cares for Lulu a lot more than he lets on. Poor guy_.

The boy's parents were very grateful to have their son returned to them, but Tidus was eager, in fact, he was practically bouncing off the trees, to return to the place where he and Rikku had found the child. The second they were out of hearing range of the kid's parents, he started jabbering a mile a minute. "Look, guys, we have to go back up there. You have to see this thing. It's one of those crystals, but wow! It's bigger than any of the ones we saw when we came through here before, and…"  
Auron interrupted him, "We are not here on a sightseeing trip. There are no fiends on the upper paths."  
Tidus cut him off. "But Auron, something happened up there. Let me finish. When we found the kid, my pack, something in my pack, started humming. It started to shake so much; I thought it was going to jump off my back right there. It was just like the way that mirror reacted to the box the old guy gave us at the Arena, but it was lots stronger. We've got to go check it out. It might be important," Tidus finished breathlessly.  
The older man considered for a moment. "I agree. It does sound like it is worth 'checking out', as you said." A half smile flickered across Auron's face for a moment, and the younger man blinked in surprise. "Lead the way," Auron finished, gesturing to Tidus with an outstretched arm.

Tidus led them up the glowing, translucent walkway. Partway up, Mercy made the mistake of looking down at the path between her feet, and discovered that she could see clear through to the forest floor, too many feet below her to even want to think about. She stumbled in surprise, completely uncertain about where to put her feet next, and Auron had to catch her arm before she fell. "Don't look down," he whispered. She chewed on her lower lip and nodded hesitantly.

Tidus led them to the right, when they came to a branching of the path, and practically ran up to a gigantic crystal pulsating with prismatic light, as he tore the pack off his back. He knelt at the base of the crystal, both his arms buried in his pack, which was visibly rocking now, as he tried to find the cloudy mirror among his spare clothes, potions, and extra food. Mercy stared at the crystal in awe. _I want to touch it, and I'm afraid to, both at the same time_, she thought. _I wonder if I could feel the light pulse, if I touched it? Could I tell if it were live, or construct, or magic? It's so big. It couldn't have just grown, could it? There can't be a seed for this plant. It must be magic. But why? I wouldn't understand how it if hit me in the head, but I'd love to know why. It must have been important. Maybe…it still is_.

Tidus finally located the mirror, wrapped inside one of his extra shirts. He unwrapped it carefully, and stood, holding it in his cupped hands as he faced the giant crystalline structure. The mirror began to glow with light, as though it were reflecting the light from the crystal. When Tidus turned around and showed them the mirror, they all looked at it in wonder. Now, it was not merely reflecting the crystal's light; it had actually absorbed some of that light. The mirror had become some sort of a mini-crystal, and it was lit from within, it glowed even when Tidus covered it with his hands. He started to replace it in his pack, but his pack started humming and shaking again. "What now?" he grumbled. "The map, the map," Rikku exclaimed. "Yeah, right!" Tidus practically shouted, as he drew the old parchment out of his pack. In the new light of the mirror, they could all read the map. At the top the title read "Celestial Weapons". The map had three symbols repeated all over it, and at the bottom, the symbols were identified as either "Weapon", "Sigil", or "Crest". Beside each symbol on the map itself was one of three words, 'Seek', 'Quest', or 'Challenge'.  
"Deciphering this is going to take some time," Lulu declared. "We should go back to the ship tonight instead of camping here, so that we can work on this map."  
"Agreed," Mercy seconded. Lulu looked at her in considerable astonishment. Mercy shrugged. _When the witch is right, she's right. Why argue?_

They gathered around the map after dinner, in the room that Mercy now always thought of as the "conference room".  
"Okay, it's a map of Spira. But what's a celestial weapon when it's at home?" Mercy asked, puzzled.  
"Must be like Lord Mi'ihen's sword, like that guy said on the Highroad," Wakka offered.  
"Yeah, I think that's it," Tidus agreed eagerly.  
"He must have had a lot of friends," Mercy replied, somewhat sarcastically.  
"Other heroes, over the years, may have also left their legacies behind," Yuna responded, more reverently.  
"I think you're right, Yuna," Lulu agreed.  
"So," Mercy went on, "I guess we just have to hope that there is a weapon for each of us. We'll know when we find them. Meanwhile, we have three sets of symbols: weapon, sigil, and crest. Weapon is obvious, but what about the other two? And why would they break the weapons apart?" _Okay, I know I'm talking too much. But I honestly don't know. How will I find out, unless I ask?_  
"To dim their power…or their legend." Auron pronounced. "But we have already located most of the crests. Everyone, get the ones you have and return here." Once everyone piled back into the room, they were able to match the crests to the locations where they had been found. All of the locations had been marked with the notation 'seek'. Two remained, one in Luca, one in Guadosalam, although they had no clues yet as to which weapon, or which member of the party, each crest belonged to, if any. "Each of these was found easily, in the location specified on the map. There was no test, no trial, no puzzle," Auron continued. "This must be the meaning of the 'seek' notation." Mercy put her hand on his arm, and caught his eye. _We have done enough_, she thought at him. _You, my love, have probably already done more than your share_. He blinked rapidly for a moment, as he realized what he had been doing, that he had been 'directing things' again. He nodded to his wife, and her mouth curved in a tight smile. He folded his arms across his chest, physically withdrawing from the discussion.

Tidus studied the map again, looking at the Calm Lands area closely. "Look here, the Arena is marked three times, once for a weapon, and twice for the sigils, whatever they are. They all say 'challenge'." He stopped to think for a moment, then went on in a rush. "Hey, I wonder about that chest the old man gave us, the one we couldn't open. I bet the mirror will open it now. And, I bet that either one of these weapons is in it, or one of the sigils. We should check tomorrow. Capturing fiends for the arena must be one of the challenges."  
"We should test your theory in the morning," Lulu replied coolly.

In the morning, the airship dropped them by the Calm Lands Travel Agency. Although no one wanted to cross the Calm Lands on foot again, most were willing to indulge Tidus' desire to race the Chocobo Trainer again, and then ride across the Calm Lands on chocobo-back. Rikku was keeping her hand in at haggling in Al Bhed with the shopkeeper at the Agency, while most of the others were watching the trainer's assistants set up the course for the race. Mercy watched her husband stalk along the sidelines in impatience. She didn't have to hear him to know that he was muttering the words, "Waste of time" under his breath. _He must have driven the rest of them crazy_, she thought. _He must have been relentless. He probably gave them the impression that nearly everything was a 'waste of time', possibly including sleep. None of them could have known that his perception of 'time wasting' can be a little bit elastic, depending on whether he is a participant or an observer. He can't bear to be still, any more than Tidus can. It's something they have in common. Underneath the surface, Auron's reserve against Tidus ebullience, they have quite a lot in common…and they would both prefer to walk barefoot over a bed of hot coals rather than admit it_, she thought, as she smiled to herself.

The race was about to begin. Mercy walked over to Auron, hooked her arm through his, and dragged him over to where everyone else was standing to watch the progress of the race. They all cheered Tidus on, except for Auron, who kept his arms folded across his chest during the entire race. But even he smiled when the young man beat the trainer by several tenths of a second. Tidus jumped off his chocobo, and hurried towards them, sweaty, wind-blown, and flushed with victory. Yuna ran to meet him, and threw her arms around his neck. Mercy watched Tidus' face as he folded his arms around her in return, and nuzzled his face into her hair. There was something in his expression, and in his manner, that told her that the moment meant much more to him that appeared on the surface. He lifted his head for moment, and his eyes met Mercy's, and she saw that his eyes were full of unshed tears, then he buried his face in Yuna's hair again. Mercy wondered again, _what is going on with them? This is killing him. Lords and Ladies, she's not worried about getting pregnant, is she? Don't they know how to prevent that, or delay it…or something? Or is she afraid someone would stop her from going on with this, as soon as they knew? Doesn't she have anyone she can go to, for advice? I think…I never thought…I don't know…Not that it was ever a possibility…But I think I'd take the risk…so that I'd have something of him…just in case. Oh damn it all to hell, anyway_. Mercy turned her face into Auron's sleeve, and blinked away her own tears.

They rode next to the Arena, and established that Tidus' theory was correct, at least so far. The chest proved to contain a staff, inscribed with runes that named it "Nirvana". It was clearly a weapon for a summoner. Yuna held Nirvana, and they all gathered around her, and tried placing each of the crests, one by one, next to the staff, to see which belonged to it, if any. Only when Yuna held the Moon Crest near it, did they hear a faint resonance. "I think we need to return to the crystal in Macalania to merge the weapon and the crest," Yuna said uncertainly.  
"I agree," Lulu responded swiftly.  
Tidus turned to the fiend handler. "You got any other prizes for us?"  
"Not until you bring me some more fiends. I got some really interesting stuff for you, if you restock my whole place, though," the old man answered.  
"All right!" the young man replied eagerly. Then he turned back to the others. "Look, there are two more places marked as 'challenge' in the Calm Lands, a weapon in the northwest, and a sigil near the travel agency, but the only challenge I know of is racing the chocobo trainer. Let's go check it out!"  
The expression on Auron's face was almost pained as he looked at his wife. Mercy just shrugged in response, but she had to smile at Tidus' enthusiasm. He was on the right track, after all. She just wondered how long it was going to take to beat the chocobo trainer, at least twice more, it seemed. Tidus hadn't had a great deal of luck, so far, and nothing had resulted from his triumph earlier that day. She decided to 'rescue' her husband, at least temporarily. "Why don't we check out Yuna's idea first? I'd like to see what happens when the crest and the weapon are merged. We can ride to south end of the Calm Lands, and then come in through that path we tried to take yesterday. You said it led here, didn't you, Auron?"  
"I would also like to see the merging of the weapon," Yuna cut in nervously, casting a sidelong glance at Tidus to make sure that he was not upset because she was not taking his part. "So I also wish to return to the crystal."  
"Then it is settled," Auron spoke quickly, before the debate could be re-opened. "We will return to the woods now. We should learn more of the nature of these 'celestial weapons' we will be creating. Beginning the process with this staff is the only way we have." He let his hand rest on the curve of Mercy's back for a moment, one corner of his lips turned up slightly. When no one else seemed to be paying attention to them, he whispered, "You probably should not have done that…but thank you."  
"You know, you will have to suffer through more of his chocobo races sooner or later?" she whispered back, smiling.  
He groaned in pretended agony, "Better later."

They did ride to the southern Calm Lands, leaving their chocobos tethered where the trainer or her helpers could retrieve them later, but they did not take the ground based path Auron had stopped them from using the day before. Instead, they took to upper reaches, traveling over the sky paths. Mercy made sure this time, that whenever she had the urge to look down at the forest floor, she looked over the edge of the glowing trail, and not between her feet the way she had the last time. It helped her to preserve the illusion that the road was solid beneath her feet.

When they reached the great crystal, Yuna stepped up to it hesitantly, with the Nirvana staff and the Moon crest clutched nervously in her hands. As she approached, the prismatic lights shifted, the glow intensified, began to pulse in a faster rhythm, and the lights became brighter, more intense, as the colors changed more and more rapidly, swirling almost too fast for the eye to notice the changes. Mercy squinted against the brightness, and saw that when Yuna finally stood at the base of the crystal, the girl's arms seemed to be rising over her head, almost as though she were being compelled to raise them. It looked like the crest dissolved, or was absorbed into the staff, it was difficult to tell, the radiance of the crystal made it almost impossible to see anything clearly. Then Yuna cried out, and started to fall, the staff still clutched in her hands. Tidus caught her up, and cradled her gently against his heart, while Lulu pried the staff away.

Tidus carried her all the way down, until the path touched solid ground. Then he laid her carefully on the ground, her head pillowed in his lap. Everyone had followed him down, and he searched for Mercy in the crowd, and Auron. She knelt down, Auron beside her, but Auron was the one who spoke. "She has fainted," he began.  
"Something happened when the staff and the crest merged," Mercy continued.  
"It is like the time you touched the fayth, outside Zanarkand," Auron concluded, addressing Tidus, as he saw Yuna turn her head from side to side, reacting to something that none of them could see.  
Yuna's eyes blinked open. "It was so sad," she began, tears running down her cheeks, "but I don't understand what I saw. Or why," she cried as she sat up, leaning against Tidus.  
"Tell us," Auron urged.  
"I was," she began, in a hesitant voice, "looking over a valley. People were filing in. Dozens of people. A few hundred at most. They were tired; they had clearly walked a long way. Many were hungry, they looked like they had been hungry for some time," she continued sadly. "Some were limping, a few were even wounded, being carried by others. There were a few children. Everyone was in tatters, rags. They looked so hopeless," she cried, her voice breaking, and she took a moment to press her face into Tidus' neck.  
"Go on," Mercy said encouragingly, as soon as Yuna seemed to have control of herself again. "We're all listening."  
"There was one man, he reminded me of my father, a little. And, he was a summoner. I know he was," Yuna looked at each of them, waiting to see if any challenged her conclusion. When no one did, she continued her story. "He had the staff…Nirvana, I mean. He told them all, 'You know there is no going back, once this is done?' and they all nodded. Then he asked them, 'You are sure?' and, it was so strange, he seemed to look each one of them in the eyes, and they each nodded back, even the children, as he walked from person to person. It was very solemn, and everyone was silent by the time he was done. Then he returned to his place, and nodded once, very sharply, and said, 'So be it. Take your places.' They all moved. Some climbed the walls of the little valley, parents held their children between them. The old, and the wounded hugged the bottoms of the canyon walls." Yuna coughed, and Tidus gave her some water to sip.  
"The summoner began to dance. I've…I've never seen such a dance. I've never even heard of one like it. And as he danced, he moved…he traveled around the little valley, and he touched the people, and the rocks, and the walls…and they…changed." She closed her eyes; trying to recall exactly how it had appeared in the vision she had seen. "It happened slowly…at first," her voice sounded as though it was coming from a great distance, or from far in the past. "Then it spread, from each person that he touched, it spread to the others they touched, one after another, as he danced, around and around the valley. More and more of the people…became fayth. He turned them all into fayth." She opened her eyes. "It was the valley we passed through, between Gagazet and Zanarkand. I saw it happen. He did it with that staff," she finished, her voice shaking. "But who were they?" she asked Auron, hoping that he would know.  
"They were the survivors of Zanarkand," he answered, both sadness and certainty in his voice. "When they knew they had lost the war, they chose to become fayth, rather than live as captives of Bevelle." _A half-truth, but enough for now_, he decided.  
"How do you know this?" Lulu questioned, not in doubt, but in an earnest desire to know.  
"The archives at St. Bevelle," he answered simply. "The result of their act is recorded. The soldiers of Bevelle found the city empty, and a haunted valley filled with what they thought were 'statues'. I did not know the manner of it until just now, but the conclusion is obvious." He turned back to Yuna. "Did you see anything else?" he asked in a gentler voice.  
"Yes," she replied, looking into his face. "The summoner…collapsed afterwards. The next thing I saw, he had changed from his robes into ordinary clothes, and he had cast an illusion spell on the staff, to make it look like a walking stick. He kicked his summoner's robes into a pile, and aimed a 'Fira' spell at them, then he watched until they burnt to ashes. I saw him walk out of the valley alone, tears running down his face." There were tears running down her own face as well, she had been deeply affected by the emotions of the summoner from the past, even though she didn't understand everything that she had seen. She wiped her face with her hand and asked Auron, "He was…beyond lonely. I could feel it, just by watching him. But what did it all mean? Why did I see it all?"

Auron exchanged a look with his wife. _They already depend on us too much_, he realized. _I think I understand some of what the vision meant, but as to the emotions, I hope Mercy will deal with that, for I cannot_.  
He began, "I think you saw…the reason the staff was broken…the most significant time it was used. A staff that was used to turn hundreds of people into fayth should never be used…casually. It must be very powerful. You should test it, when you feel up to it." He smiled at Yuna, a real smile, warm and kind. It lifted her spirits momentarily and she smiled back.  
"Why did I see…a vision…at all, do you think?" she asked that question again.  
"Are we supposed to know the significance of each weapon?" Lulu asked.  
"Perhaps," Auron agreed. "I believe it is more than that, but I am still uncertain myself," he confessed.  
Mercy had been listening, but had concentrated her mental energy on the other part of Yuna's question, why had the summoner felt such desperate loneliness. _I know_, she thought. _Auron knows, Tidus knows…more than he should._  
Yuna turned suddenly, and looked straight into Mercy's eyes. "You know, don't you? You know why he was so lonely. I wanted to help him, but I couldn't. I couldn't even understand it completely. Help me understand, Mercy. Please?" she begged.  
Mercy laid her hand on the young woman's shoulder. "I hope you never understand it completely," she began. "He despaired, because he knew that…he would be totally and utterly alone…for the rest of his life. He was, as far as he knew, the last survivor of Zanarkand. He knew he would have to spend the rest of his life, living a lie, never telling anyone his real identity, never admitting he was a summoner, knowing he'd left everyone and everything he ever knew behind in that valley, when he burnt his robes." Mercy stopped, and looked up from Yuna's face, into her husband's. She reached out, and gripped his arm, high up, where she was sure she'd feel skin under the cloth, and not armor. In that moment, she needed to touch him; the eye contact just wasn't enough. Mercy reached out her other hand, stretched out her arm, slid it around Yuna's slender shoulders, and let it rest on Tidus' back, on the far side. "Yuna," she said softly, the other woman's face close to her own, "none of us will never, ever be that alone, not ever again, no matter what happens. We will always have each other." Mercy felt Tidus' hand extend around Yuna to her own shoulder. She looked up and saw that the others were all looking at Yuna, and nodding enthusiastically.  
"Dat's right, Yuna. It won't ever be like that. No way," Wakka agreed. "We help each other. Always."  
_Trust Wakka to strip a thing down to its essentials_, Mercy decided. _It won't ever be quite like that. You will not be utterly alone. But there will be nights, Yuna, when the difference won't matter a damn_.

End Chapter Thirty-One


	32. What's Love Got to Do With It

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The title of this chapter comes from a song that was performed Tina Turner.

* * *

It took most of a day for Tidus to defeat the Chocobo trainer enough times, over enough courses, to fulfill the conditions for both challenges. The weapon, which he managed to win before lunch, they were able to retrieve from the northwest corner of the Calm Lands. When he held the mirror up to the mandala on the rock and the opening thus revealed turned out to hold a sword that just seemed to be made for him, he was even more eager to return to face the trainer for more races. But winning the sword Caladbolg turned out to be much easier than obtaining the sigil, which took the entire afternoon. By the time Tidus had the Sun Sigil in his hands, and was able to determine that it matched the sword, he was beat. He left it to the others to worry about whether or not they would find weapons for every member of their party. 

But by the time they returned to the ship, Tidus was in high spirits, as were most of the others. But Auron had found the day, just watching, extremely annoying, and needed to blow off a lot of steam, so he marched toward the room set aside as a gymnasium. As she headed for the shower, Mercy felt a little sorry for whoever or whatever ended up as her husband's sparring partner this afternoon. _That unlucky soul is going to end up with some serious bruises_, she thought.

As she washed the dust out of her hair, Mercy thought about Tidus, and Yuna. She knew there was something that she was missing, or something that she didn't understand. And she knew perfectly well that if she tried to 'meddle' too much, Auron would eventually hear about it. _Tidus will just have to deal with this on his own_, she sighed, as she stepped out of the shower, combed out her hair and put on her robe. She had just finished tying the red silk around her waist when the door chimed, and she was astonished when she opened the door and found Yuna standing in the hallway outside, her hands knotted together nervously.

"Yuna, please come in!" Mercy cried, motioning the girl to enter the room. "I was just thinking of you," she finished, grinning.  
Yuna stepped hesitantly into the cabin, then raised her eyes to meet Mercy's. "May I…speak with you privately for a few minutes?" the summoner asked hesitantly.  
"Auron is down in the training room," Mercy reassured her, "looking for someone for a practice bout. Today just wasn't a good day for him. He hates standing on the sidelines," his wife volunteered.  
Yuna smiled a little at that remark. "He may find Kimahri down there, for the same reason," the summoner confessed. The two women exchanged a look of complete understanding.

"Please, sit down. Tell me what's on your mind." Mercy moved to the bed, and sat down, folding her legs underneath her. Yuna looked around her with considerable discomfort. The younger woman had been trying very hard not to notice the huge bed, but it dominated the room. She had already seen that it was unmade, the sheets and blankets kicked to the foot of the bed, the pillows misshapen by use, and that a black robe had been casually thrown across one side of the sheets. Yuna blushed. As she sat down gingerly on the edge of it, she faced the other side of the room, and saw the dresser there, with an old bracer of Auron's leaning almost drunkenly against Mercy's music machina on its top, both of their backpacks piled in the corner, and Mercy's boots on the floor. It was all too intimate, and Yuna suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable. She started to get up, to leave. "I apologize," she began in a small voice, "I shouldn't have troubled you."

"No, Yuna, please," Mercy begged. "You came to me for a reason. I want to help you," she finished, placing a hand gently on the girl's arm.  
Yuna stared down at the hand on her arm for a moment, then looked up to meet the woman's eyes. She knew she had nowhere else to turn. "I came," she hesitated, "to ask you a personal question." Color flooded her cheeks again, and she stared down at her twisting hands in her lap.  
Mercy dismayed, thought, _first Rikku, now Yuna_, but kept any reservations to herself when she responded, "If you think there is anything I know that will help you, fire away. I'll be happy to answer your questions. Go ahead, Yuna. Ask me whatever you want," she prompted in a gentle voice.  
Yuna met her eyes, swallowed nervously, then asked, "Mercy, what is love?"

Mercy closed her eyes. To herself, it seemed like just a second. A kaleidoscope of images, thoughts, feelings, flashed through her mind, but she said nothing of them. Instead, she looked into Yuna's eyes, read the younger woman's face, and said, "Why are you asking me, Yuna? You already know the answer."  
"Because I am uncertain what to do, and I hoped that you would advise me," Yuna replied in a slightly shaky voice.  
"Why me?" Mercy asked, uncertain herself now.  
"I have no one else to turn to," the younger woman replied simply. Yuna's eyes fell upon the black robe lying across the bed, and then she met Mercy's eyes again. Yuna realized that Mercy was wearing a robe, a red one, and that this black one…must be Sir Auron's. She blushed. She didn't want to think through the implications, not in any detail, but at the same time, she knew that those implications were the reason that she had come to this woman for counsel.

Mercy tracked Yuna's gaze, saw the blush, and, without thought, reached out and touched the sleeve of Auron's robe. _I understand now_, Mercy thought. _I know it's hard for you to think about. Well, I can't blame you; I don't exactly want to know the prurient details about you and Tidus, either. I just want there to be some. But you figure that I must know something, if I've managed to stay with Auron for five years. Lulu is alone for some reason, and Rikku knows less than you do, which is a goodness considering her age, and there truly is no one else. I think we both wish there were_. Mercy took Yuna's hands in hers, and shook them lightly, to get Yuna to look up at her again. "Yuna, if you want my help, then you need to tell me your real question."

Yuna's eyes flicked downward again, then back up to meet the other woman's. "It was much simpler before," the summoner confessed. "I knew that…I would receive the Final Aeon, and that I would…die…at the end of my pilgrimage. Now...there are so many other considerations."  
"What are you worried about?" Mercy asked, puzzled. "I'm afraid I don't understand about these other…considerations."  
"What do you mean?" Yuna replied, equally confused.

The older woman began patiently, "Remember, I'm not from Spira. My perspective may be different from yours. When I was seventeen, and I was in your situation with a young man, the only…considerations…I had to worry about were whether he loved me as much as I loved him, what would happen if any of our parents found out, and what would happen if I got pregnant. What am I missing here?"  
Yuna sat, mentally reeling, wrapping her mind around the concept that, of course, Mercy would have had a life before she met Sir Auron, and that life might have included another man. It just took a little getting used to.

Mercy decided to continue, interpreting Yuna's silence to mean that they weren't really connecting yet. "You do know that Tidus loves you very much, don't you? I hope he's told you that himself. He can't be that big an idiot," she muttered.  
Yuna smiled brightly for a moment, and Mercy was instantly reassured. "I know that he does," Yuna agreed eagerly. "And yes, he has told me."

Mercy continued then, almost to herself. "At seventeen, I'd have been worried about my parents, but Spira is a much harsher world. You're both considered adults. You don't need anyone's permission." Mercy saw Yuna's eyes fall again. "And unfortunately all of your parents are beyond worrying about any of this."  
"You and Sir Auron, you are Tidus' foster-parents," Yuna replied in a quiet voice. "He would still want your approval, I think."  
Mercy laughed. "Don't worry about Auron's approval. I don't know the details, and I definitely don't want to know, but there were at least a couple of times on your way up to Zanarkand that the two of them 'arranged things' so that Tidus could spend time alone with you." Mercy's eyes danced with amusement at the shocked expression on Yuna's face. _Didn't expect that of Auron, did you girl?_

"Do you…approve?" Yuna asked her, and Mercy wanted to applaud her for her directness. _I wonder_, she thought, _did Tidus tell you, or did he keep his secret?_  
"I approve very much," Mercy answered, equally direct. "More than anything else, I wanted him to find someone like you." Mercy watched a small, triumphant smile flicker across the girl's face for a second, and she realized, _he told her, and finally, it's over, he's grown out of it. This is the way it's supposed to be. I got something right, or at least, not wrong_. Aloud, she said, "I just wish I understood what these…considerations…of yours are. I can't advise you if I don't understand. I don't know anything about what your society might or might not approve of, for example. Auron and I lived together for two years before we were married. There was a lot of gossip where I worked, and some of it was rather cruel, but there was really nothing unusual about our arrangement. What would people think, here?"

Yuna tilted her head to one side, considering her answer. "On Spira, it would be tolerated, mostly because you are," the girl looked down awkwardly, then met Mercy's eyes again, "older," she finished awkwardly. Mercy ran a hand through her sable and silver hair. "Most people are married by the time they are my age," Yuna continued quickly. "They are usually formally promised to one another by the time they are fifteen or sixteen. Promised couples are allowed a great deal of…license," she blushed, "together, even before they are married, but not until then. Lulu and Chappu were different because…"  
Mercy held up a hand. "Wait, who was Chappu?"  
"Chappu was Wakka's brother. He and Lulu were promised to each other, but they waited while she studied her magic, and then he joined the Crusaders instead." Yuna stopped suddenly, and sniffled back a tear. "He died in Djosé, fighting Sin with the Al Bhed. It was…almost a year and a half ago now. We all grew up together. Wakka, Lulu, Chappu, and I, with Kimahri watching over us." _Oh, no_, Mercy thought. _What I saw…Wakka's face, when I was singing, 'I'll be there when your broken heart is on the mend.' I'm almost afraid to even think it. Poor man, I think he's in love with the girl who was supposed to marry his brother_. Stunned, Mercy motioned with her hand for Yuna to continue with what she was saying.  
"Lulu and Chappu were different because they waited so long to marry, and then they never had the chance. I was studying in the temple, training to become a summoner, so I didn't let myself become involved with anyone," Yuna finished lamely.

"Or you didn't meet the right person," Mercy responded. "You know that Tidus won't know that any of this is important to you, if you don't tell him?" Yuna nodded. "But this isn't really a big part of it, is it?" Mercy asked, studying Yuna's face. "Yuna, please tell me they know how to prevent pregnancy here on Spira? Please tell me that's not it," the older woman begged.  
Yuna began, "There is a potion," then she gasped as the implications of the other woman's question struck her, "You mean you don't know? Haven't you…didn't you…shouldn't you?" the summoner's voice ground to a stuttering halt as she tried to frame the horribly embarrassing question, and failed utterly.  
"No, Yuna, I don't know," Mercy started, her voice a little shaky. _How do I put this? How do I even begin to get around this…hole I just dug myself into?_ "I don't need to know. Because…Auron told me everything, when we first became involved with each other. We made sure…that I could never get pregnant…not ever. Such things could be done in Zanarkand…and the effects are permanent." _Everything I just said is true. But everything you just assumed is a lie. I'm sorry, Yuna_.

Yuna saw anguish on the other woman's face. "But Mercy, the white mages here might be able to reverse the effects," she urged. "You could find out. You and Sir Auron will both still be young enough to have children, after all of this is over," Yuna offered sympathetically.  
On a sudden impulse, Mercy reached out and put her arms around Yuna, drawing her into a brief hug, and the girl hugged her back. For a few seconds, Mercy let herself feel the pain, then she pulled some composure out of somewhere and plastered it over her face, and let Yuna go. "Thank you for that. You made my day." Mercy smiled. "My Zanarkand was obviously a considerably kinder and gentler place than Spira. I'm ten years older than Auron, and it would be unwise for me to have children, even if it were possible to have the procedure reversed at this late date. But I appreciate the thought." Her smile wobbled a little for a second. Yuna opened her mouth as if to speak, and Mercy put a hand up, motioning her not to say anything more on the subject.

Mercy paused, took a deep breath, and dragged her mind over everything Yuna had said, and dismissed it all. There was nothing there to explain anything of what was going on between her and Tidus. _What could be holding her back? What am I missing? What holds anyone back?_ Mercy took Yuna's hands again, and stared into her eyes. "Yuna," she began, a very serious note in her voice, "what are you afraid of?"  
Yuna's eyes closed, and her head fell forwards for a moment. Mercy released one of her hands, and slid a finger under her chin, to lift it up again. "You don't have to tell me anything, you know. But you do have to admit it to yourself."

The summoner's eyes opened, and stared back at her, and she finally began to really talk. "My father…my father loved my mother so much, that when she was killed, he started planning for his pilgrimage. He didn't want to go on living without her. He loved me…but I wasn't enough. Nothing else was enough, not after she was gone." There were tears running down her cheeks now, and she let them fall, she didn't even try to stop them or wipe them away. "I saw what happened to Lulu, after Chappu died. Lulu had always been a little grumpy, and sharp-tongued, but Chappu could always make her laugh. She was happy. When he died, she turned cold, and brittle, and sometimes even mean. Part of her died with him. She hasn't been the same since then." Yuna paused then, to sniffle so she could breathe more easily, then she went on. "When we were at the Farplane, Tidus told me about his mother. When Sir Jecht came to Spira, Tidus' mother missed him so much that she got ill, and died of a broken heart." Yuna stared at Mercy with red-rimmed eyes. "Don't you see?"

"Tell me what you see," Mercy asked, soothingly. _I'm afraid I do see, and I don't like the view. _

"How can you not understand?" Yuna cried. "I saw how much pain Sir Auron was in, all the way to Zanarkand. When Tidus told me about you, he said that he missed Sir Auron as much as he missed you, because Sir Auron was so different without you. Now that you are here, I can see what he meant. It is more than just that he is happy, it is as if he has returned to the world because you are with him." Yuna took a breath. "And when we fought Yunalesca," she shivered, "and you fell…he almost threw his life away…because he was afraid he had lost you again."

Mercy closed her eyes in thought. _That's what I was afraid of. Every example she can think of, of romantic love, erotic love, carnal love, goes to hell. Love mixed with sex equals death for one partner and pain and endless grief for the other. Except for us, and we keep teetering on the edge as it is. No wonder she ended up at my door_. "What are you afraid is going to happen to you and Tidus? There is no Final Summoning, so your chances are no better, and no worse, than anyone else's at this point."

"What if something were to happen to me, in battle? I don't want Tidus to act as Sir Auron did. If waiting until after all of this is over will keep us from getting more involved, will keep that from happening, then it is worth it," Yuna said with conviction.

_That ship sailed a long time ago, girl._ "Yuna, what do you think Kimahri would do, if you fell in battle?" Mercy asked, seemingly out of the blue.  
"What…what does that have to do with it? We're not discussing Kimahri!" Yuna shouted, almost furious at the change of direction.

"No, we're discussing love. Kimahri loves you. He loves you in the same way that I love Tidus. If you fell, Kimahri would be tearing pieces out of whatever got you within three seconds, and I'm not even sure he'd bother with a weapon." The older woman smiled sadly. "And Tidus would be right beside him, because he loves you, whatever you decide to do or not do about it. Yuna, whatever you're trying to prevent, it's already too late. It's probably been too late for a long time." At that, she smoothed her hand over the girl's wet face, and pushed her hair back behind her ear. "I know you're afraid of what happens if you lose each other, and one of you is left to mourn." Mercy paused, considering how much to say, then began to say it. "Yuna, Auron and I always knew we would only have five years. We always believed that there was no way I could make it to Spira, that Sin would tear me apart if we tried. I expected to die. And Auron knew that he would have to come back here alone. When we met, he could have turned away, before it was too late. He chose to stay, knowing our time would be short, uncertain whether I could reach the Farplane." She tilted Yuna's face so their eyes met. "I believe that, even if you had asked him that day Tidus told you everything, when Auron knew for certain that I wasn't in the Farplane, he would have told you that if he were given the choice, he would do the same again. He thought the joy was worth the pain." Mercy let her hands drop, hoping that she had made her point.

"Would you…do the same again?" Yuna asked hesitantly. "Would you…make the same choices you did?"  
"I wouldn't skip a single thing," Mercy told her, with absolute conviction. "Not even the fights." She laughed softly at herself. "And a few of those were…something." Her eyes went misty, remembering. "But I highly recommend the kissing and making up part, afterwards."  
Yuna shook her head a little, trying to clear it. Then she covered her face with her hands, trying to wipe away her tears, and trying to give herself a chance to think a little behind the screen of her fingers. She had said so many things that she had never admitted to anyone before. And she had heard so much that she needed to absorb. It was all…too much right now. She let her hands fall into her lap, and then she stood, wiping her hands on her skirt to dry them. "I…need to go away…and think for a while. I hope you understand," she said shakily.

"Yuna, you don't answer to me," Mercy told her. "I just hope I helped you a little bit. That's all."  
"You've given me…a lot to think about. But I should go." Yuna stood up straighter now. "Thank you…for everything," she said, as she turned and walked toward the door.

Just before she reached the door, Yuna turned back. "I have…one more question," she began slowly. "You said that you would…do it all again. But…do you have…any regrets?"

Mercy ran her hand back through her hair again; the nervous gesture intended to give her a chance to gather her scattered thoughts. She met the younger woman's eyes, and cut the words out of her soul. "Yuna, when you lie awake at night, and look back, well, what gnaws at your heart isn't the things you did, not usually, because you know how those choices turned out. Regrets are mostly made up of the things you didn't do…and the chances you were afraid to take." Mercy paused, took one more calming breath. "I don't regret a single second of the time that Auron and I have had together. But I regret…I regret every night of those five years that he was in Zanarkand, that we each spent alone." Yuna saw the pain in Mercy's face, and understood that the other woman meant every word. The summoner nodded, then she turned and left the cabin.

Mercy continued sitting on the bed, staring at…nothing at all. Then she shook her head, thinking, _what did I just do? Lords and Ladies, I talked…way too much. I can't imagine what Auron would say if he knew about this…this…conversation Yuna and I just had. So, I won't tell him. Well_, she demurred_, not unless he asks me, anyway. I won't lie to him, either_. She got up and started to pace around the room, as she went over in her mind everything that she and the young summoner had said to one another. _What's done is done_, she sighed, massaging her aching temples. _I only hope I didn't just make things worse. But I wish I'd kept my mouth shut about her maybe getting pregnant. I didn't need to go there_. Her thoughts reversed directions. _I didn't need her to go there. That ship was lost at sea five years ago. No, ten years ago, when Auron…died. And what kind of parents would we have made, anyway_, she argued, trying to convince herself.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door sliding open. She turned and saw her husband stride into the room, his coat, belt and armor over his arm, a towel around his neck, sweat staining his shirt and his face flushed with exertion…and triumph. He dropped his burden in a pile beside the door, and threw his glasses on top. She saw the predatory gleam in his eye as he looked her over, and knew that he was aware that she naked underneath her robe. "Who did you fight?" she asked lightly.

"Kimahri," he answered, as a broad smile split his face. "I won this time," he added, explaining his jubilant mood. He didn't beat Kimahri very often.  
"I should get some potions. The last time you and Kimahri sparred, he cracked two of your ribs." She turned away, and tried to walk over to their packs. He took one step forward and caught her wrist, pulling her close, wrapping her in his arms, holding her wrists together behind her back. She was suddenly enveloped in his scent, the tang of his sweat, the scent of leather, from the places where his armor had rubbed against his skin, the exotic spicy aroma that seemed to come from his pores, and the heat of sexual arousal that was filling the room. Her head began to spin, and she gratefully went along with the sensation, letting him be the aggressor this time, knowing instinctively that he needed that, as much as she needed to be swept away.

"I am fine," he growled against her ear. "And I don't need any…potions," he finished, as he pulled the tie that closed her robe. A little roughly, he pushed the silk over her shoulders, and it dropped down to her breasts, trapped between their bodies. He dragged in a harsh breath, and forced himself to let an inch of space come between them for just long enough for the flimsy cloth to fall back, caught by his hand confining her wrists. His free hand splayed over her butt, as his lips crashed down on hers. As he plundered her mouth, he let go of her wrists, cupping her ass in both hands to lift her against him, his erection hot and hard against her belly, even through his clothes. She clawed at his back with her nails, knowing it would send him over the edge of what little control he had left. With a harsh cry, he swept her up into his arms, and began to carry her toward the bathing room. As his kisses continued to devour both her lips and her brain, her last clear thought was, _we have each other, always_. _That is enough_. A tiny voice whispered in the back of her mind, _it has to be._ She let her head fall back, and he began to suckle her breast, and she let the voices drown.

End Chapter Thirty Two


	33. The Last Worthless Evening

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The title of this chapter comes from a song that was performed by Don Henley, and the relevant lyrics were used in Chapter Thirty.

* * *

In the morning, they returned to the great crystal in Macalania, to merge Tidus' sword with both its crest and its sigil. As he approached the crystal, Tidus hoped that he was better prepared than Yuna had been. At least, he had some idea of what to expect. He held the crest and sigil awkwardly clasped in his left hand, while he gripped the sword in his right. He kept his hands together; trying to use his right hand to help him hang on to the two oddly shaped metal pieces as he walked. When he got close to the crystal, he raised his arms over his head, since they had all seen that the magic had seemed to force Yuna to do so, he thought it might make things easier for him if he just went along with it. As soon as he stood at the base of the crystal, he braced his legs, hoping like hell that he wouldn't pass out the way Yuna had, and have to be carried down the trail. He heard, rather than saw, Auron and Wakka step into position not far behind him, to catch him in case he did fall. Then the light started pulsing, and he felt the metal insignia dissolve in his left hand, and suddenly he was gripping the sword in both hands, and the light took him. 

Tidus saw a woman, in a Crusader's uniform, striding toward the Scar at the northern edge of the Calm Lands. At first, she seemed to be alone, but whenever a fiend attacked her, he thought he saw two women, both in uniforms, fighting the fiend, except that one was ghostly, and the other was the real woman he could see when there were no fiends. Suddenly, Sin was there, the huge hulk blotting out the sun, but the woman wasn't even afraid. Calmly, she began to summon, using her sword instead of a staff. As Tidus watched, he knew instinctively that the sword she used, was his sword, the Caladbolg. The Crusader danced at the edge of the Calm Lands, her sword cutting the air in sweeping, graceful arcs as she leapt and twirled beneath the Sin-darkened sky. It was a summoning, but it was unlike any summoning he had ever seen before. When Yuna summoned, the aeon came from outside, from the air, or from the earth. Whatever this summoner was summoning, it was coming from inside her, breaking free from her chest and stomach in a spray of blood and tissue and bone, until the aeon stood in front of the summoner's clearly dying body as her almost-carcass fell to the ground. The sword clattered to the edge of the chasm as the two supernatural beings faced each other. This aeon, Tidus saw, was some kind of wolf, but huge beyond his, or anyone's worst nightmare. And it somehow had a parody of Crusader armor covering its shoulders, chest, back, neck and forelegs, and in its yellow eyes, there was cunning beyond any animal's. The summoner's eyelids still fluttered, and her heart, visible in the open chest cavity, still beat erratically. She was still alive, barely, and she was watching.

The titans fought. Tidus thought that the real battle must have taken hours, but he felt that what he was seeing was compressed somehow, or that it was being sped up in some way, for his benefit. Even so, each blow that the two giants struck seemed ponderously slow. He eventually realized that he wasn't seeing every bite and gouge, just whatever the vision decided were the important ones. The wolf aeon was smaller than Sin, but faster and more agile, like the creatures it was modeled on. It also seemed very intelligent. But each time Sin struck it, it was severely damaged. The wolf concentrated its energy on a single weak spot, on one of Sin's front legs, biting and tearing at that spot every time it got near, risking being hit itself to get in a good strike, but usually able to use its superior agility to dance away. Eventually, the wolf disabled that leg, and unbalanced the ungainly creature, finally bringing the more vulnerable eyestalks down where the wolf could tear at them with its teeth and claws. Through it all, the dying summoner watched as her aeon, her friend, her murderer, wore Sin down and finally tore its throat out. Then, as Sin convulsed in its death throes, the wolf dragged itself over to the summoner, and lay down at her side. The summoner closed her eyes, and died, and dissolved to pyreflies. Painfully, the wolf heaved itself to its feet, and howled in mourning for its dead mistress. Something…emerged from Sin's vast carcass. It looked like some kind of malformed Bluspider, except it was black and purple and bloated and disgusting. The pulsing, malevolent fiend appeared to be the embodiment of evil, and even through the distant perspective of the vision, Tidus felt chilled to the bone. The Bluspider floated over to the wolf, and aimed itself straight into the wolf's heart, just slammed itself straight inside the beast's body. The former guardian dropped instantly to the ground, and began twitching and shaking. As it writhed and shuddered, it changed color, as if poison from the fiend was spreading through its body. Convulsions swept through it, as it fought whatever the Bluspider had infected it with. As it rolled on the ground in agony, it swept the sword off the edge of the chasm, and Tidus heard it land on the ledge below. Then the venom reached the wolf's yellow eyes, and they turned purple and black, and somehow empty, and Tidus could see that it just wasn't the same creature anymore. It had become the evil, and he knew he had just seen how a guardian…became Sin.

He staggered suddenly, and realized that Auron's hand was between his shoulders, keeping him upright. He shook his head to clear it. "Hey, at least you guys didn't have to carry me down," he said awkwardly, in a valiant attempt to cheer himself up. The vision he had seen saddened him, even though he hadn't understood it all.  
"I am grateful for that," Auron said, in a tone that echoed the younger man's attempt at gallows' humor. But then he continued more somberly, "But we should walk down. I think you have a story to tell us."  
"Yeah. I do," Tidus agreed quietly.  
Once they were on solid ground, Yuna asked, "What did you see?"  
"I saw a summoner beat Sin," he said. "This was her sword. She used it to summon her Final Aeon." He suddenly dropped his head into his hands, remembering. "It was awful." He reached out and pulled Yuna against his side. She held him tightly as he trembled in her arms and buried his face in her neck. Eventually, he stopped shaking and raised his head. "I think the summoner was the one we saw in the dome. Near the entrance. Same uniform."  
"Lady Yocun," Lulu answered the implied question. "That must have been her sword. Did you see the actual summoning?" Lulu continued thoughtlessly.  
Tidus looked up and met Auron's eye. The older man shook his head, very slightly. Tidus coughed…and lied. "No, not really. I saw the summoner dance, and then it blurred, and then I saw the aeon. It…looked like a giant wolf." Auron nodded. Tidus closed his eyes for a second, reeling. _He saw…he saw…that…happen…to Yuna's dad, and…my old man? Now I understand…a little…maybe…why he went back to get Yunalesca_. He opened his eyes to find Auron still looking at him in concern, but to also see that Mercy, sitting next to Auron, had tucked her hand through her husband's arm.

"We should go," Auron said decisively, before anyone could question Tidus further. "But what is our next destination?"  
"I would like," Yuna began, pausing as all eyes focused on her, "to go to Besaid next. If that is all right with everyone else," she finished diffidently.  
"That'd be great," Wakka agreed enthusiastically. "It'll be good to go home, ya?"  
"Wakka, it's just for a visit," Lulu reminded him. "But Yuna, why the sudden urge to go to Besaid?"  
"Well," Yuna hesitated, trying to think of a plausible excuse, "I would like to visit Valefor. She was my first aeon…and…I would like to hear what she has to say about our plans." It sounded reasonable enough, but Mercy couldn't help but wonder if Yuna just wanted to go to Besaid because it was home. _At least we'll get a new set of fiends for that arena_, she thought to herself.

Yuna wanted to return to Besaid because it was the place where she felt the most centered. She had been born in Bevelle, but Besaid was the place where she had sunk her roots. She knew every tree, every rock, every villager, and she felt that they knew her. She knew she would feel grounded enough there to think clearly about all the things she had discussed with Mercy. Or, at least that was what she hoped when she had asked to go there. But in her eagerness to return to her home, she hadn't thought of all the other memories that returning there would raise.

The next morning, they arrived at Besaid. Valefor's message was helpful. The fayth confirmed that their decision about Sin, about Jecht, at least, was the correct one. Their plan would free him from Yu Yevon. They were able to capture a few more fiends for the arena. But coming home reminded Yuna of those who would never return. She remembered Sir Luzzu, lost in Operation Mi'ihen, and his death reminded her forcibly of Chappu's. As they all tramped over rough trails around the village, reducing the island's fiend population for the benefit of the old man's arena back in the Calm Lands, the young summoner looked at her foster sister, Lulu, and remembered how devastated the black mage had been when her lover had died at Djosé. The summoner heard Mercy's voice, not catching the words, just the light-hearted tone, followed by Auron's rumbling chuckle. _Mercy said he knew he would come here alone, he knew about the pain, and yet he loved her anyway. Would Lulu have done the same with Chappu? If regrets are made of what you didn't do, would Lulu take back all those days when she studied her magic, when she could have been with Chappu instead? But he would still be dead, and she still has her magic. Is the joy, as Mercy said, worth the pain? If I don't try, and something happens, will I always wonder what might have been?_

The villagers had decided to hold a feast to celebrate Yuna's visit, so that evening, as she sat beside the fire in the village center, she looked through the firelight and momentarily the past overlaid the present, as Tidus walked over to her from a conversation he had been having with Wakka and the members of the Besaid Aurochs blitz squad. She remembered her instant awareness of him, the first time he had approached her like this, four months ago, after he had brazenly crashed through the Cloister of Trials without any understanding of the possible consequences and she had practically fainted at his feet. Then, the villagers had called him 'heathen'. This time, they called him 'guardian'. Four months ago, she would not have predicted anything, anything that had happened in the intervening time. She could not predict what would happen in the next four weeks, possibly not even the next four days. But she knew she loved him, and that he loved her, and that it had been too late to change that from the minute he approached her around this fire four months ago. All she had to do now was decide what to do about it. She had a little time to think about it, since the party had decided to spend the night in the village, and she and Kimahri would be sleeping at the temple for just this one night, in their old rooms.

By morning, she reached her decision. On their way to the Calm Lands, to turn over the fiends they had captured to the arena, Yuna surprised them all by opening a discussion of their next destination by urging, "Let's return to Macalania. Tomorrow night, I would like to camp by the spring again, if everyone agrees." Then she shyly looked at Tidus' face, and smiled into his eyes.

That night aboard the airship, drowsy and content in each other's arms, Mercy finally remembered to ask Auron, "Is there something significant about that particular spring?"  
"What spring?" he murmured sleepily.  
"In Macalania. The one we're going to camp at tomorrow."  
"Probably," he muttered, still half asleep.  
She punched his shoulder. "Auron, tell me. Is that where…?"  
"Yes." He smiled, kissed her gently. "Now, will you go to sleep?"  
"Maybe we should check it out tomorrow, too?" she teased.  
"Mmm…that has possibilities," he replied, as he spooned against her back, pulling her close.

They discovered the challenge in Macalania first. They reached the woods relatively early in the day, and took up their exploration of the southern section, the one that had been interrupted when they had returned to the airship to puzzle over Tidus' mysterious map. As the group tramped up and down the winding, twisting paths of interlocking exposed roots and gnarled branches, Mercy kept trying to convince herself that these were an improvement over the glowing sky trails, at least these appeared to be solid under her feet, even if they were sometimes narrower than the others. The party was searching for something that would serve as a challenge in these woods, as well as collecting fiends for the arena. The map indicated that a sigil challenge was to be found here, but no one remembered anything that would fit that description. But they did manage to gather plenty of fiends while they looked. At a bend in the winding path, they met a tall, bird-like creature, strumming a harp. They had rushed by him before, but this time, they stopped, and the harpist addressed them in a musical voice, "A butterfly with rainbow wings, will lead the way to secret things."

Tidus practically jumped up and down in his eagerness. "That's it, that's it," he cried. "That's got to be the challenge." Mercy and Yuna looked at each other and both winced, afraid he was going to bounce himself off the trail in his enthusiasm.  
"Calm down," Auron's voice cut in, as he motioned the younger man to stillness. "Let's hear the rest of what…our guide…has to say," he continued, as he gestured toward the musician.

The bird-creature explained the nature of the challenge to them. To start the challenge, one of their company would have to touch the rainbow butterfly flitting nearby, then rapidly move down the path they had just traversed, touching seven blue butterflies, but no red ones, within a relatively short span of time. If that person succeeded, they would receive a prize. If they failed, they would face a fiend each time they made any kind of contact with one of the red butterflies. The contest sounded simple, but after the day spent watching Tidus race the chocobo trainer, they all knew that it had to be more difficult than it appeared. Nevertheless, they believed that these celestial weapons were important, and that it was necessary that they succeed.

Tidus, ever eager, jumped up and said, "I'll do it," as he turned and reached out for the rainbow butterfly. The rest of the party watched, holding their breaths and crossing their fingers, as he raced down the path, easily grasping the first three blue butterflies, and avoiding the first red ones. Then it became more difficult, as he had to dodge between two red ones to reach the next blue one, and by the time he had to reach the fifth blue one, he misjudged, and couldn't quite get his shoulder around, and he brushed against a red butterfly, and it immediately morphed into a Chimera. The Chimera's snakehead stretched out towards him, and he lopped it off with his sword, as the rest of the party came pelting down the path to assist him. Wakka lobbed his Blitzball into one of its other two heads, as Lulu cast a Thundara spell. Confused, the fiend turned around to face the greater threat, and Tidus sliced his sword across the back of one its knees, effectively hamstringing the creature. It attempted to turn back around again, and nearly lost its balance. Auron's katana sliced into its guts, and it dissolved into pyreflies. "Whew!" Tidus exclaimed. "Thanks, guys. I guess I needed to warm up a little more before I tried that course."  
As they all trudged back up the path to the rainbow butterfly, Mercy began, "You did pretty good. But…I don't think that's exactly your kind of test."  
"What do you mean?" Auron asked, sounding alarmed. He knew all too well how her mind worked.  
"I was looking at the pattern of the butterflies, that's all," Mercy answered back. "This is a test of speed and agility, but, I think, mostly agility."  
Mercy's eyes turned to Rikku, and she smiled at the girl, who grinned back, and nodded sharply, immediately getting the message. Rikku pumped her fist into the air. "This sounds like it's just my kind of work. I can steal those blue butterflies right out from under those red butterflies' noses!" the Al Bhed exclaimed. "You can count on me."  
"Butterflies don't have noses," Auron said heavily, trying to squash the idea, before it got out of hand.  
"That's not the point," Mercy said, trying to cut him off. "Rikku is the best person we have for the task. And you, Wakka, and Kimahri are probably about the worst, before you even think of volunteering."

"But I think…" Auron started to argue. _I think Rikku is still a child. She should not be out there alone_.  
"I think you're being overbearing," his wife shot back. She wrapped her hand around his upper arm and dug her fingers in hard; he could feel it even through his coat. _Stop it, Auron. You're being overprotective. You consented to her becoming a guardian, damn it. Now, you have to let her be one_.  
He looked down into her eyes, shutting everyone else out of his consciousness as their two strong wills clashed. Then suddenly, one side of his mouth quirked up in wry amusement, mostly directed at himself. _Damn it, woman, I hate it when you're right_, he cursed inwardly. She saw his half smile, and her grip on his arm turned into a caress. He muttered, "As you wish," to his wife, then he turned his head and nodded to Rikku as well.

Wakka stood there shaking his head. He'd never have guessed that even Legendary Guardians backed down when their wives got mad at them. He learned something new every day.  
Rikku stared at Mercy waiting to make sure that it was really, truly okay for her to go ahead and do this. Now that it really was all up to her, she was just a little nervous, but she felt like she had to do it right, because everybody was counting on her now, especially Mercy. Rikku really didn't want to let her down, especially not after she'd stood up for her like that and all. Mercy looked straight into Rikku's eyes, and grinned at her, and nodded. Rikku took a really deep breath to steady herself, and then touched the rainbow butterfly, and then she was off.

Rikku managed to grab six of the blue butterflies, then she let the time run out while she studied the remaining knot of the little creatures. As she tramped slowly back up the trail to the beginning, she kept drawing patterns in the air with her hand, and muttering to herself. Auron stood watching her, his arms folded across his chest, a slight smirk on his face. "Don't even think it," his wife hissed. "You and Wakka both move slower than shoopufs on land, and Kimahri is all that and probably colorblind into the bargain. I'm sure Rikku has a good reason for what she did. And if she really can't do it, Yuna or I are probably the next best choices."  
She grinned at him as he sputtered, "Yuna?"  
"Yes, Yuna. Assuming she's willing to kilt up that skirt of hers or that she can wear a pair of Rikku's or my pants. Yuna's a summoner, which means she can dance. She has to be more graceful than you are," Mercy whispered as Rikku finally reached them.  
"Don't worry," Rikku started immediately, addressing Mercy. "I just stopped because I wanted to…study the pattern. Now that I've seen it, I know I can do it this time. Let me get some water, and I'll try again. Okay?"  
"Absolutely. You're doing just fine," Mercy reassured her. "Take as much time as you need to get ready."  
Rikku sipped at her water, then took a steadying breath. "I'm fine. I'm okay, honest." She took a position next to the rainbow-winged butterfly. "Here we go again," she cried, as she touched the little creature. Then she skipped lightly down the path, absolutely sure of her steps. This time, she caught the first four butterflies easily, took a little more time with the next two, but still grabbed the last one with time to spare. They all gathered around her to congratulate her and to open her prize. In an excess of enthusiasm, Rikku went over to Mercy and hugged the older woman who had shown such faith in her abilities, as Tidus opened the chest and discovered the sigil etched with the name 'Saturn' inside.

The group spent the rest of the day combing the woods for fiends for the arena, and when twilight fell they made camp near the spring, but in a much lighter mood than they had on the previous occasion.  
After dinner, which Mercy thought tasted surprising good for field-cooked food, they all sat around the campfire debating their next destination. Yuna rose, cast a significant look in Tidus' direction, and headed for the spring. Kimahri followed her; to keep watch over her until the young man joined her.  
Tidus hoped he understood what was going on. He guessed that he was supposed to follow, he thought that was why Yuna wanted to camp here, but he wasn't sure. He waited a little, trying not to be obvious, _not like it isn't really obvious to everyone_, he thought, then walked over to the pile of gear and picked up a couple of towels and moved down the path to the spring, feeling everyone's eyes on his back as he went.  
As he passed Kimahri, the Ronso placed a paw on his shoulder for a moment, then turned back toward the campfire, making it clear that he would not be keeping watch. Tidus continued toward the spring, where Yuna was waiting for him.

After Tidus had been gone about an hour, Mercy was beginning to wonder if he and Yuna were going to spend the night by the spring. She glanced over at Auron, thinking that if they did, it would certainly make a mess of any ideas she might have had for later. _This camping out thing definitely has its disadvantages_, she thought. Then they all heard the sounds of Tidus' laughter, and Yuna's giggles, just before the couple bumbled into the campsite, their feet tangling together slightly, as they were clearly having difficulty trying to walk with their arms tight around each other's waists. Mercy put up a hand to cover the broad grin that covered her face. _That's so much harder to do than it looks_, she thought, laughing to herself as she watched them. _The important thing is to just find a way to hang on, somehow. Holding hands works just fine_, she continued, smiling to herself as she leaned into her husband's shoulder.

Yuna's face was radiant with happiness, and Tidus' showed a fierce kind of joy, one that seemed almost painful in its intensity. Yuna searched the circle of her guardians, sitting around the campfire, until she found Mercy, and the younger woman raised her chin slightly, almost defiantly. The two women exchanged a look over the firelight, and the older woman thought, _he's all yours now. Take good care of him for me_. Mercy closed her eyes, nodded, and Yuna pressed her cheek into Tidus' shoulder. Behind her closed eyelids, Mercy's prayed, _I hope that, when the time comes, you think that the joy was worth the pain. Don't waste a second, girl. Seconds are all you'll have_. She opened her eyes, and found Tidus staring at her, and, for an instant, she saw his awareness of just how much the bitter was mixed with the sweet.

By the time the young lovers had returned to the campsite, it was already past time to lay out bedrolls and start the watches for the night. Mercy continued to sit by the fire, and watched as Auron picked their bedrolls up from the pile, and laid them out together in a corner of the campground. It was clear to her that he didn't think anything of it; he just did it casually, but very quickly, since they had the first watch. She noticed, out of the corner of her eye, that Tidus was observing him very carefully. As soon as Auron finished, Tidus tried to do the same thing. He went to the pile, located his and Yuna's bedrolls, and snatched them up. But he just couldn't manage the nonchalance. His face was scarlet. Mercy mentally gave him points for perseverance, since he still took the bedrolls to a different corner, and laid them out together, his back to the rest of the group, ignoring as best as he could the fact that everyone was staring at him. Yuna immediately moved to his side, helping him to organize their sleeping space, becoming an active participant and, by doing so, showing her consent to this new arrangement.

No one had noticed Lulu's reaction, not amidst the smiles and giggles that had greeted Tidus' and Yuna's reappearance and the obvious change in their relationship. But Mercy noticed her now. The mage's face was white and drawn, and her eyes were wide with shock as she watched Yuna make up a bed with the man she was now openly acknowledging as her lover. Because there was no sympathy between them, Mercy couldn't read Lulu's expression, not at first, and was worried that the mage was going to lash out in anger for some reason. She let one of her throwing knives fall into her palm, just in case the witch really was considering which spell would cause the most damage. But, as Mercy stared, she saw Lulu's eyes close, and her shoulders slump, as though she was in terrible pain, and then the mage turned away from the happy couple. _Lords and Ladies, she's not angry, she's…torn up inside. Why? Is it because…of Chappu? Her heart was broken, and now she's afraid…that Yuna's will be too?_ Mercy saw movement out of the corner of her eye, something carrot-red turning sharply, and she caught a glimpse of Wakka's face, his emotions raw and scraped bare as he stared after Lulu's retreating figure. _He loves her. It's written all over his face. She still clings to the memory of his dead brother…and he loves her. And it's tearing him apart. And the bitch acts like she doesn't have a clue_. Mercy almost felt like crying herself, seeing Wakka's anguish. Instead, he pressed her face into Auron's shoulder.

Later, after Kimahri had taken over the watch from them, Auron and Mercy took a couple of towels and headed for the spring. Mercy wondered if they had brought enough towels for everyone, since this pair was likely to end up as full of sand and as grass stained as the ones that Tidus and Yuna had used earlier. But when the trail opened up in front of the spring, all such mundane thoughts dropped from her mind, as Mercy stepped ahead of Auron to move further into the clearing. "Auron, this place…it's amazing," she breathed, gazing at the spring in wonder.

"Yes, it is," he replied, watching her as she spun around, almost like a child in her delight and enthusiasm. He could see that the sparkling water, the spring, lit by the surrounding crystals, enchanted her. He had always been told that this place was special, but he had never taken the time to appreciate it before. Now, he could see the wonder of it reflected in her eyes, and was grateful that Yuna had chosen to return here.

The spring spilled into a pool, surrounded by the strangely beautiful wood and crystal trees. A grassy bank led down to the water, which was open to the sky, and deep enough to reflect the midnight blue sky, full of stars. The air winked and shimmered with something very much like starlight, and Mercy realized that there were hundreds of tiny pyreflies floating over the little lake, and the dark velvet night glittered in the vale.

Awestruck, she stood still for several seconds, but she couldn't take it all in. She saw a boulder to the side of the path, and gratefully plumped down on it, just glad to be able to sit and stare at the magic that lay before her. Finally, she looked up at Auron, standing beside her, and asked, "Why didn't you say anything?" She was beginning to recover herself, and she was clearly more than a bit annoyed with him. "This place…this is the most amazing, fantastic, beautiful place I've ever seen. This is…the heart of this whole place. Can't you feel it? Didn't you notice anything when you were here before?" _Just because you're a man, do you have to be that dense?_ She thought that, but she didn't quite say it. Her tone clearly implied it, however.

"I passed by here, many times," he replied softly. "But if I ever stopped here, I do not recall. There would have been no reason, then. And I was probably unwilling to…waste the time," he admitted, a slight, apologetic smile on his face.

She stared at him in astonishment. _How could he have come here and not remember? Or, how could he have passed this place and never, ever looked inside. Duty again, always his damn duty. Not this time_, she decided. _This time, he will remember. I know exactly how to make sure he remembers_. She smiled then, a very knowing smile, as she carefully drew her swords out of her belt, and propped them against the side of the rock. She started to take off her boots. He let the towels fall, and they rolled a little way down the bank, then stopped. He carefully rested his sword on the same boulder, getting it out of the way. He looked up to discover that Mercy was standing a few feet away from him, the spring at her back. He started to walk towards her, and she shook her head slightly, that mysterious smile still on her face. Then she reached behind her back, and suddenly she was unwrapping her belt from around her waist. As the cloth unwound, her hips swayed slightly from side to side, and the movement captured his attention…completely. As her belt slackened, her shirt became loose as well, offering him tantalizing glimpses of her skin underneath. When it dropped away completely, her tunic gaped open, revealing the swell of her breasts seeming ready to spill out of her bra, and the taut skin of her midriff. She threw the belt aside, keeping her eyes fixed on his face, not caring where the belt landed. He tried to lick his dry lips. Her tongue flicked out over her own lips, and he groaned before he could stop himself. She put her hands straight behind her back, thrusting her breasts forward, seeming to offer them to him. He felt sweat trickle down his back as her shirt dropped off her shoulders and landed on the ground, leaving her upper body almost bare. She kicked the cloth aside. She pulled the drawstring on her pants, and they fell to her hips, revealing her belly button and the upper band of her underwear. Auron's eye fell with them. A few seconds ago, he had been so hard he was almost in pain, and now, if possible, he felt even more aroused. He wanted to lick just around the edge of her navel, and keep moving down, use his mouth on her just the way he knew she liked, make her just as insane as she was making him right now. She could hear the harsh rasp of his breathing, and she loved it. She was hot and wet and aching for him, and she felt like the sexiest woman that ever lived, driving him this way. She wanted to make this feeling last as long as she could. She smoothed her hands over her hips, and her pants dropped to the ground. She stepped out of them daintily. His hands balled into fists at his side. He wanted to start tearing his own clothes off, but he was unwilling to remove even the slightest amount of his attention from her. And it didn't matter a damn that he'd seen her naked a thousand times before. What mattered was this time, right now. She didn't keep him waiting much longer. Her hands reached behind her back, and she unclasped the bra that confined her breasts. They spilled out so that he could feast his gaze, at least. Her nipples were the color of dark berries, and the shape as well. If he hadn't already known, he would have been certain now that she was as excited, as eager as he was. She hooked her thumbs into the sides of her panties, and pushed them down, to where they would fall on their own. She stood before him, completely naked, totally alluring, and with a wicked grin on her face. "I'm going for a swim," she announced, in a sultry voice. "I'd love it if you would join me." Then she began to walk down to the water, her hips swaying seductively.

He stood still for another minute, completely mesmerized. Then he started to tear at his own clothes. He was in such a rush; it felt as if he had ten fingers on each hand when he started to unbuckle his belt, the process seemed to take him twice as long as it should have. When he finally got himself out of the damn thing, he just let the belt fall to the ground, his coat he threw over by the towels; he thought they might need it later. His armor and the shirt underneath he shed gratefully, relieved to have the cool air waft over his overheated torso. He kept glancing up at Mercy; she was in the pool, the water only partially covering her breasts. To him, she looked like some kind of water goddess, or a siren, beckoning to him. He unfastened his pants, let them fall, and tried to step out of them. He heard her laughter float over the water. He looked down. He had forgotten to take off his damn boots. Five years later, and she could still bemuse him so much that he forgot to take his boots off. Awkwardly, he toed them off his feet, stepped out of his pants, and strode down the bank.

He walked into the water, along the bottom of the lake, thinking that he would reach Mercy easily, thinking that the game was over. She pushed off and swam away, out of his reach, and he found he had to chase her. The water had cooled him off a little, but, being forced to chase her around the spring, aroused all his predatory instincts. Finally, he caught her by the ankle, as she tried to slip away one last time. He wrapped one hand around her leg, as he trailed the other up her calf slowly, bending her knee, and finally, up the inside of her thigh, until he had her trapped against his body. He captured her lips in a long, deep kiss, his prize for having caught her. He'd won the game, and she wrapped her arms and legs around him, as he carried her into deeper water, where he could stand but he was certain that she couldn't, so she'd need to cling to him to keep her head above water. Exactly what he wanted.

He looped his arm under her bottom, and with the help of the water's buoyancy, he held her up easily so that their eyes were level with each other. He had lost the tie that usually bound his hair during their chase, so she brushed the wet strands off his face and back behind his ears, then fisted her hands in his hair as he pulled her towards him for another kiss. He kept his hand at the nape of her neck, angling her head to deepen the kiss. He wanted to take his time, to let his tongue penetrate and explore the sweetness of her mouth. One of her hands trailed down his spine, as she pressed her breasts against his chest, her thighs squeezed his waist like a second pair of arms. His arm supported her, his hand kneading the rounded flesh of her derriere. The water made all their movements slower, more languid, but at the same time, it heightened every sensation.

They kissed over and over, neither of them in control, harder, devouring each other's mouths, licking at each other's skin. She scratched at his shoulders, while her heels drummed into his butt. He shaped his free hand up over her back, and down her chest, palming her breasts in his hand. It wasn't enough. He hoisted her up higher, and closed his lips around her nipple, sucking it greedily into his mouth. Her head fell back as she gasped with the pleasure. He scraped his teeth along the hard peak, and she started to moan as she rocked against him. He moved to her other breast, and suckled harder, as he felt her hands grip his skull. Her whole body shuddered in pleasure with every movement of his lips, or teeth, or tongue. He pulled his head back, stared into her eyes. Hers were hazy, unfocused, filled with passion. He knew he probably looked the same. He watched her face as he slid her down slowly, but had to close his own eye in that moment when she ground her mouth down on his, and he thrust upward, and they were one.

Now that he was inside her, now that she was filled with him, their frenzy calmed momentarily. They looked into each other's eyes again, and held each other close. The moment felt intense, openly physical, openly emotional. "I love you," she whispered, as she locked her ankles around his waist.  
He blanked out for a second, and rolled his hips. Whenever she shifted, he felt it. The change in pressure was an exquisite sensation. But he focused again and replied softly, "I love you too," followed by a long, infinitely tender kiss.  
They started to move together, taking things slow, literally testing the water. He withdrew a little, and she pulled him back with her legs. She pushed up, and he drew her down with his arm. The rhythm was much slower than they were used to. It was achingly sweet, but the intensity spun out over an incredibly long time. When neither of them could stand it any longer, he braced his legs, and dug his feet into the lake bottom, and let her ride him. He was holding them both up, his own body was screaming for release, but still he watched her face as she flung herself into glory. In the last second before she closed her eyes, and started shuddering in convulsive ecstasy around him, he could have sworn he saw the pyreflies reflected in her eyes. Then his own climax overtook him, and lost consciousness of everything except the woman who held him in her body and in her heart.

He realized that he must have actually fallen asleep for a few moments, because suddenly he felt that the water was tugging at him, and his head was drooped onto Mercy's shoulder, just as her head had fallen onto his. When he lifted his own head, she felt the shift in his shoulder muscles, because she raised hers as well, and muttered a dazed, "What is it, love?" at him. He felt…completed and utterly drained of all energy. Totally spent. He had to get them out of this lake, or they would both drown in less than six feet of water, he was that far gone. He hauled them both a few feet until Mercy's head was above water; then she started stumbling on her own. Once they were out of the water, the cool air revived them a little…but not much. Still dazed, they unrolled the towels and fell on them, both desperate to sleep off their lethargy. Just before he fell into the deep well of unconsciousness, Auron managed to drag his coat over them both.

He finally woke, because something cold was rubbing against his calves. As soon as he was awake enough to recognize that it was just Mercy, trying to warm her icy feet against him in her sleep, he relaxed, content to let it be so, although he did spare a moment to wonder how her feet consistently managed to get so cold in such a short span of time. _It's worth a little chill just to have her here. _He smiled up at the stars over his head. He stroked his hand down her arm, pulled her closer against his side. Her head nestled into the hollow of his shoulder. He brushed his lips against the top of her hair. He frowned suddenly. _Yuna did not even want to look in here, some days ago. Scant days later, she wants to camp here, instead of spending the night on the airship. Tonight she decides to shift the nature of her relationship with Tidus. I admit, for the better, but…why the sudden change of 'heart'?_ "Why are we here?" he murmured aloud.

"I thought that was pretty obvious," she answered back sleepily. Then she lifted his coat, and peered underneath, down the long line of his naked body, and grinned up at him mischievously. "Yep," she said, laughing. "Really obvious." Her hand slid down his chest, starting to follow the line her eyes had traced just a few seconds previously. He caught her hand in his. He knew that if she continued teasing him, she would make every single thought fly out of his head, and some of those thoughts might not return later, particularly the one that had just occurred to plague him.

He rolled over on his side, so he could look straight into her eyes. "You did not…say anything to Yuna, that might have contributed to this evening's events?"  
"Yuna came to me," his wife replied evasively. "She wanted my advice."  
He groaned. The possibilities were endless, and alarming. "On what subject?"  
She smiled at him, mysterious again. "Love."  
He flopped onto his back, stunned. "Why did she ask you?"  
Mercy shook her head at him. "Auron, who else could she ask?" Her tone of voice clearly told him he was being an idiot. _Just because I wondered why me, too, doesn't mean you have to know that_.  
He heard the question of either his intelligence, or his sanity, in her tone, and knew it was justified. Yuna's options were severely limited: Lulu, Rikku, or…his wife. "What did you tell her?"  
"Don't worry," she answered reassuringly. "I can tell what you're thinking. I didn't tell her any secrets," she hesitated for a moment, "except my own."  
He turned on his side again, and, after one look at the wistful expression on her face, traced a line down her cheek with his finger. "What secret did you tell her?"  
She held his hand still, and pressed a kiss into his palm. "She spoke of regrets when she faced down Yunalesca. I only warned her, that, when she looked back, most of her regrets would be of the things that she didn't do. And that, I think, is why we're here."  
He saw something infinitely sad on her face. "And what do you regret, that you did not do?" he asked softly.  
She traced the lines of his face with her fingertip, drawing his brows, the sharp line of his nose, the curve of his lips. Then she spread her hand along his jaw. "I regret…that I didn't go looking for a new martial arts teacher, just after you came to Zanarkand," she said, her voice filled with emotion. _That is not all, but that is enough, love. It is more than enough_.  
"Oh," he murmured, a sharp indrawn breath. His heart ached at the thought of it. _She could have come to the dojo, ten years ago. It would still have been Sensei Hikaru's decision…but he would have seen her skill…and with those swords…she would have needed private lessons…and I would never have managed to get past 'Hello'…of that, I am certain_. He closed his eye for a moment, then opened it to look into hers.  
"It would not have been…what the fayth intended," he said first, attempting to soothe her.  
"I know," she replied, just a little sharply.  
"I do not think…I know I would not have known what to do…outside of being your teacher," he admitted, a wry smile on his face.  
She smiled suddenly, a very knowing smile, then she shoved hard on his shoulder, rolled him onto his back and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. The regrets for a past that 'might have been' began to burn away in the heat of 'here and now'. She leaned over him, brushing her breasts against his chest as her sex slid wetly over his shaft. "Maybe I would have been your teacher," she suggested, her lips near his. _I would have driven you crazy. And I would have loved every minute of it. Just like I am right now._  
His eye rolled up into his head. "Like what you taught me at the spring?" he ground out harshly, as he reached blindly to wrap his hands around her waist. _I need you, my lady_, he thought wildly. _Let me in!_  
She waited until his eye opened again, until his gaze was locked on hers. She put her hands on the ground on either side of his head, as she felt him lift her up. She tilted her hips a little to accommodate him, as she stared into his eyes and whispered, "Maybe this time, we'll teach each other," just before she kissed him, deep and hard, and his body stroked into hers, completing each other again, and neither of them had any thought left for regrets.

End Chapter Thirty-Three


	34. You Love the Thunder

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The title of this chapter is from a song performed by Jackson Browne.

* * *

At breakfast, they decided to continue on to the Thunder Plains. There were two marks on the map to investigate, a sigil challenge at the Travel Agency, and a weapon quest south of it, although no one could recall anything from their previous visit to the area that resembled either a quest or a challenge. Still, they could collect more fiends for the arena while they puzzled out both problems. 

As the group made their way through the northern section of the Thunder Plains, Mercy and Auron were at point, leading the party and watching for fiends on the path ahead. It wasn't a position that Auron had customarily taken; he had been more comfortable guarding their back trail rather than leading, before Mercy had joined them. Tidus just figured it had been Auron's way of compensating for his blind spot without drawing attention to it, as rearguard, it was no problem, as point, it would have been a distinct handicap. Now, Mercy covered Auron's right, so the problem disappeared. Yuna brought Tidus' attention to the fact that Auron was talking to Mercy as they walked. The two older guardians both still kept a sharp lookout, but they also carried on a conversation; it looked like Mercy had was asking questions about the lightning towers, and Auron was trying to explain something about how they worked. "Now I understand what you meant, back in the Calm Lands," Yuna began.  
"What are you talking about?" Tidus asked, puzzled by her remark.  
"When you told me that you missed Sir Auron," she hesitated a moment, "almost as much as you missed Mercy. Now I understand." She gestured toward the couple ahead of them. Mercy raised her arm in the direction of one of the towers, then jumped as one of the lightning bolts struck nearby. Auron's shoulders shook with laughter, as Mercy stalked away from him. Then a lightning bolt struck him, and he found himself suddenly sitting beside the path. Mercy walked back to him, and stretched her arm down to help him up, as she laughed heartily at his loss of dignity. He sat on the ground, a look of totally bewilderment on his face for a moment, then he threw back his head and laughed. Yuna watched, then she smiled as she told Tidus, "I am so glad that I have been able to get to know Mercy, a little."  
"Oh?" he replied, as his eyebrows shot up. Something about her tone caught his attention.  
"We talked…a few days ago," Yuna hesitated. "I asked for her advice about a few things. She was…good to talk with."  
"Can I…ask what it was about?" he tried, equally hesitant. His stomach had dropped down to his shoes. He could think of too many possibilities. The idea of Mercy telling Yuna all of his life's most embarrassing moments was just one of the many that passed through his mind.  
"Girl talk," Yuna replied, smiling at his dismay. "Don't worry. We didn't talk about you…too much," she teased. He groaned in pretended agony. Yuna tugged at his hand, and they continued down the road.

Lulu was walking just close enough behind that she could hear what the young couple were saying to one another. When she heard that Yuna had gone to Mercy for advice, a spasm of pain crossed her face. The mage was shocked at Yuna's actions. And she felt…betrayed. _Why didn't Yuna come to me_, she cried soundlessly. _I cannot believe that she felt that she could not come to me with her troubles_. The mage's inner voice suddenly snapped in anger. _But since that woman arrived, my advice is no longer good enough._ _Even Rikku turned first to her for approval, yesterday during the butterfly hunt_. Lulu paused to consider. _But did something that woman said encourage Yuna to go down this road with Tidus, now? I believe that Tidus is good for Yuna, but he could still break her heart. I still think it might be better for them to have waited_. Contempt filled the mage's thoughts. _That woman does not know Spira. That woman does not know the challenges that Yuna will face, even if she brings the Eternal Calm. Just because that woman spreads her legs for that so-called 'legendary guardian'_, Lulu blocked her mind from her own offer to that same man to perform the same service, and his insulting refusal, _does not mean she knows anything of how to be a guardian, or is worthy of the least respect. And just look at him_, she thought indignantly, as her gaze focused on Auron, _he is sitting on his backside in the middle of the path and laughing like a naughty boy, all because he stopped paying attention to his duty and deservedly got struck by the lightning! Yuna should be chastising him, not laughing with them both. It is all that woman's fault_, the mage seethed with rage.

Mercy kept feeling this 'itch' between her shoulder blades as the company continued along the southbound road. It felt like she was being watched. But every time she turned around to search for fiends…she found herself meeting the cool, red-tinted gaze of the black mage, instead. The first time it happened, the swordswoman brushed it off as coincidence. The second time, she was merely annoyed. By the third, her patience had reached its limit. _This is beyond enough_, Mercy decided. _Girl, I'm tired of putting up with your temper tantrums._ _You and I are going to have a little 'chat', first chance I get…whether you like it or not_. The older woman bared her teeth in a slightly feral grin.

Auron had been having that same sensation, that unnerving 'sixth sense' that told him that he was being observed with hostile intent. He was also aware that Lulu was the one watching them. He knew that a confrontation between the two women was inevitable at some point, since the mage seemed unwilling or unable to leave well enough alone. He also thought that he personally would rather be somewhere on the south side of Besaid Island while the altercation was taking place at the top of Mt. Gagazet. Or the other way around, he did not care which, as long as he was as far from the epicenter of the earthquake as possible. Unfortunately, he was quite certain that his wish was not likely to be granted.

The party reached the shelter of the Travel Agency in the late afternoon. They were all tired, cold, soaking wet and footsore, as well as scorched in a few places from lightning strikes. They had a nice collection of fiends, but they hadn't seen anything that resembled either a challenge or a quest. But the Agency was warm, dry and kept out the lightning, and they were all grateful to step inside its shelter. Everyone was more than willing to put off worrying about finding the quest and the challenge until tomorrow, after a hot dinner, a good night's sleep, and a hot breakfast. Lunch had been pretty abysmal, huddled under one of the towers.

After they had all scattered to their rooms, Mercy stood at the window of the second-floor suite that she and Auron had been given, and stared out into the courtyard. She saw that Lulu was out in the middle of the yard, beyond the shelter of the inn, and wondered what the mage was doing, standing out in the storm. Then she whistled, a sharp, indrawn breath. _I'm impressed_, Mercy admitted reluctantly. _She's not even getting wet. The rain just…falls to the side. And the lightning…it kind of…forks above her head, and…strikes someplace else. That must take a lot of power, to create that kind of…bubble…around herself_. Mercy shook her head in wonder. _Okay, I'm very impressed_.

Auron sat down on the bed, his open pack beside him, and laid the flat of his sword on his knee. He raised the hilt up to his eye, and squinted down the length of the blade. Then he set the katana down and began to search through his pack. His wife smiled lovingly at his bent head, then returned her attention to the scene outside the window. _Powerful, and childish_, Mercy thought, her attention returning to the black mage, _a horrifically bad combination_. Mercy chewed on her lower lip for a moment. _Lulu's little games have got to stop. This is my best chance to try to stop them in private. If she makes me do it in public, I'm likely to say something too many people will regret…me most of all_.

"Auron," she said, turning to him.  
"Mmm?" he answered back, his head now bent over the task of cleaning his sword.  
"I'm going outside. I'm going to talk to Lulu." His heart sank, and his brain formed the words, _Oh shit_, but he kept his mouth shut. His wife continued speaking. "It's past time to clear the air between us…before her hostility becomes any more open, or any more active."  
He stared back at her in open astonishment. He had expected this, but not so soon. "Are you sure that is wise?" he asked quietly.  
"I'm sure it is not wise," she answered with a laugh. "But I think it's necessary. I've had it up to here," she held her hand, palm flat, out a couple of inches over the top of her head, " with her little games. Things can't go on as they are. You know that." She paused. "But just in case this turns out to have been a really stupid idea, promise me that you'll send her to the Farplane right after me? If she kills me out there, I have a feeling that I won't be anywhere near done talking yet." She was partly joking. She still wasn't completely certain about this Farplane of his.  
Deadly serious, Auron stared into her eyes and said, "Do not worry, my lady. Anyone who takes you away from me now will swiftly find themselves on the Farplane."  
Mercy stared at him for a moment, shocked at the cold promise in his voice. Then she walked over to the bed, and rested her hand on his shoulder. "Auron, you can't possibly think I was serious. It won't come to that."  
He tilted his face up to meet her eyes. "Even so, you have my word," he stated with finality. Then he picked up a whetstone and began to sharpen his sword.  
She stared down at him, her mouth dry. She could think of nothing to say in reply. She knew that he meant every word he had just said. She cupped his jaw in her hand, and tilted his face back up to hers. She dropped a warm, gentle kiss on his lips, and then she turned and left the room. She heard the whine of his blade being sharpened resume before she started down the stairs.

Lulu observed Mercy as she stepped through the door of the Travel Agency and took up a casual stance, facing her from just under the protecting eaves of the building. The two women assessed each other as they stared across the few intervening feet of rain-soaked earth. Neither spoke as the lightning flashed and the thunder crackled, and the mage found herself increasingly unsettled by the older woman's silent regard. She had expected that the swordswoman would be impressed by her display of mage craft, that her effortless show of power would give her, Lulu, the upper hand in this confrontation. Instead, Mercy's face showed nothing, except possibly amusement at her expense. Lulu felt the need to do something to shift things back to her favor. So, she reached up, and drew the lightning down from the sky, into her hand. Quickly, easily, she formed it into a ball, and began to pass it from hand to hand, back and forth, like a bright, flashing, explosive toy. This was such a basic exercise for a beginning mage, that it automatically calmed her, but at the same time, Lulu thought it would shake her non-magical audience out of her calm self-assurance, especially since it would serve to remind the other woman that a spell could easily reach her easily from several feet away.

Mercy wanted to laugh. _So, you want to play a game? I think we can both play_, she thought to herself, as she let one of her throwing knives drop to her palm. She saw Lulu's eyes widen, as she tossed the knife into the air, and let it fall into her other hand with a gentle slap of the hilt into her palm. Then she threw it back. _You forgot that I don't need to close with you to hurt you, didn't you?_ _This game isn't so much fun when it's even, is it witch?_ The two women stared hard at each other through the rain. _We both know what the game is, don't we? Whatever happens, whoever is the first one to lose their control, loses face. If it's me, I probably lose a little blood, too. And I hope to hell you can get singed on that thing you're juggling. Let's do it_.

"What's your problem, Lulu?" Mercy asked, her voice devoid of all emotion.  
"I don't understand what you mean," Lulu replied in feigned confusion.  
"Oh, please," Mercy sighed, "spare me the innocent act. You've been spoiling for this fight since the minute we met. Either tell me what it's all about, or stuff it. Permanently." Her voice went cold with the implied threat, and Lulu fought the desire to shiver in reaction to her words.  
"How dare you threaten me?" the mage yelled.  
"I am daring you," Mercy said through clenched teeth, "to get whatever is eating you out into the open, so we can fight like adults, instead of this 'little girl game' you keep playing behind my back."  
"What are you talking about?" Lulu hissed.  
"Little fool," Mercy spat back. "What did you think you were doing this afternoon? Trying to figure out a way to 'accidentally' have one of your spells go through me on its way to the target?" The pinched look around Lulu's mouth showed that that remark had been a little too close to its target. Mercy noticed, and continued, "Don't try it. If I survived, one of my knives would hit you. Just as much of an 'accident', of course. If I died, Auron would cut you down where you stood. He wouldn't bother to pretend it was an accident." The mage started to purse her lips into a tight smile of disbelief, but the swordswoman caught the expression halfway and killed it with a single sentence. "He gave me his word." Lulu's face turned ghost white.

She continued to press the mage, even as she continued to juggle the knife from hand to hand as she spoke. The slap of the leather hilt into her palm seemed to beat time with her words. "Well, at least that got your attention." She paused. "Let's start over. I asked at the beginning, what is your problem, girl?" Mercy challenged. Then she continued, almost laughing, "Look, I know you like to know everything. Do you have questions you want to ask me? Answers you want to demand from me? Is that it?"  
Lulu was surprised now, in addition to feeling threatened and completely off balance. She had hoped to draw Mercy out here with the intention of forcing a confrontation, but this was not going in anything like the direction she had expected. She was unsure of what to do. But the opportunity was much too good to waste. Of course she had questions, many, many question.  
"May I ask you any questions I wish?" the mage began, attempting to hide the uncertainty she felt.  
"Some topics are off limits, but not many." Mercy laughed. "None that should affect the outcome of this journey. We are both adults, more or less. I have the right to my privacy, as do you. For example, if you want to ask how good a lover Auron is, forget about it. You had your chance to find out the answer to that question for yourself. We both know that you lost that round. You don't get to satisfy your curiosity now." Mercy's smile was sly and knowing, that of a woman sure of her power.  
"Are you that certain?" Lulu asked, arching a brow, trying to cast doubt on the her opponent's absolute certainty.  
"Oh yes. I am that certain. We would not both be standing here if I wasn't." Mercy's grin was absolutely lethal. _Let her think what she likes about that one_.

"What about Tidus?" Lulu tried again.  
"You could ask Yuna, but I can't imagine you would want to embarrass her that much." Mercy was puzzled by the question.  
"I just thought you might know. I saw you on the airship. You two looked pretty…cozy," the mage's voice oozed politeness, but insinuated something nasty. Lulu couldn't really believe that there was anything to this, but she decided to try the question on for size, just to see what sort of reaction she would get.  
Mercy just shook her head. This girl was so far off target; she couldn't find it with a map. "Let me get this straight, you were skulking at the end of the corridor, after everyone went to see if Isaaru was still in Bevelle, while Tidus and I were talking, and then Auron came in?" Mercy asked, just to be sure they were both talking about the same incident.  
Lulu nodded, ready to argue about the word 'skulking', but Mercy plunged on. "Then you saw everything, right?" Lulu nodded again. Mercy caught the knife she was toying with, and replaced it in its sheath. If the witch was desperate enough to try this tack, whether she believed it or not, Mercy knew she had won this round. The swordswoman continued to shake her head at the mage, and then she leaned back against the building, laughing so hard that tears streamed down her face.

Lulu's anger exploded. _How dare she laugh at me like that? She's the one who caused all the trouble!_ Lulu's temper got the better of her, and she let the lightning ball fly out of her hands towards her tormentor. In an instant, the knife dropped back into Mercy's palm. Regretfully, she sidestepped slightly, so the blade's trajectory wouldn't continue straight through the mage if it didn't fall to the ground after it hit the magical construct, and let it fly toward the 'ball'. When the weapon reached its target, a crackling sound filled the air, as the electrical charge dissipated in contact with the metal, then the knife dropped to the ground, blackened around the edges.

"Don't even think about trying that trick again." Mercy hissed. "I have more knives. We will discuss this like civilized beings until we come to some mutual understanding," Mercy bared her teeth, "or there will be hell to pay. Now, girl, I say again, what is your problem?"  
Lulu caught both the insult, and the threat. Her mouth worked for a full minute, then she practically spat out her real question. "Did Yuna come to you for advice?"  
_So that's what's really eating her. She's not the only font of wisdom anymore_. "Yes, she did," Mercy replied.  
The silence stretched out dangerously between the two women. _What, is the woman stupid? _Lulu seethed. _Is she going to make me beg for the obvious?_ "So what did she ask you? And what did you tell her?" Lulu finally capitulated, and begged.  
"You'll have to ask Yuna. She came to me in confidence, and I respect her right to her privacy as well," Mercy replied.  
"But I need to know. I only want what is best for her." Lulu tried to sound older and wiser than Yuna, but didn't come close to succeeding.  
"Lulu, you may want what's best for her, but that doesn't mean you have the right to decide what's best for her, not anymore. That's up to Yuna, now," Mercy said, shaking her head at Lulu's unwillingness to see Yuna as a grown woman in all respects.  
"But I know what's best for her," Lulu answered resignedly.  
Mercy just shook her head in disagreement. _You were perfectly willing to let her decide to die, but you don't think she's mature enough to make a decision about whether she and Tidus should continue to be lovers. You just don't get it. If Yuna is old enough to decide to make that kind of sacrifice, then it's her damn life to live as she chooses, all the way. She doesn't need your permission…or your approval. _

"You distract Sir Auron from his duties as Yuna's guardian," Lulu accused, full of spite again.  
"I certainly hope so," Mercy replied outrageously. "The day I stop distracting him is the day I'm going to worry about."  
"That is a serious accusation to level against a guardian!" Lulu practically shouted her indignation.  
"I probably don't distract Auron half as much as you distract Wakka. At least Auron is certain we'll be sharing a bed every night, instead of trying to guess how I feel about him," Mercy retorted.  
"What are you talking about?" Lulu was completely shocked. No one ever talked to her like this, and she didn't like it.  
"I'm telling you that Wakka is in love with you, and that when Yu Yevon is defeated, if not sooner, you either need to fish or cut line with the poor man."  
"What do you mean?" Lulu gasped, stunned.  
"You should know what I'm talking about. Don't they fish in Besaid? Wakka loves you. A blind woman could see it with a cane. Nothing says you have to love him in return, but if you don't want him, there will be plenty of other women who will. But he'll follow after you forever if he thinks he has a ghost of a chance. If you decide he's not for you, I do think you owe it to him to set him free. He's a good man," Mercy finished.

"Wakka is not the man Chappu was," Lulu stated with finality, standing defiantly, her arms crossed under her breasts.  
Mercy had pieced together the story, from the bits and pieces that people had told her. _Poor Wakka, competing with a dead man. What is it with this place? Auron is right; the dead should not interfere with the living. But doesn't anyone ever let the dead rest in peace? Time to move on, girl. Time for this whole damn place to move on. _  
"So what?" Mercy retorted, hands on her hips. "Chappu was not the man Wakka is, either. Chappu ran away, he abandoned his responsibilities at home to try to be some kind of hero. Wakka stayed home, and minded his responsibilities. He's the real hero,"  
Lulu found her temper again. "How dare you say such things? How dare you presume to give me advice?" The mage's voice rose in anger.  
Mercy was very cold in response. "I dare because you tried to seduce my husband instead of sorting out your feelings for Wakka. I think I still have quite a ways to go to catch up with that bit of presumption, girl."  
"Why do you keep calling me 'girl'?" Lulu asked, practically screaming in rage.  
"Because you are acting like one at the moment. Get over yourself, would you, for just one second?" Mercy shouted.

Lulu, shocked, shut up and stared at the other woman. No one, no one had ever had the temerity to speak to her this way, no one in Besaid was willing to deal with her sharp tongue or her sharp temper, not even before she had begun to study her magic. But this woman just didn't seem to care about any of that, and even called her 'girl', over and over. Her fearsome reputation meant nothing to this woman, and Lulu now felt very uncertain. Mercy's rude comments about Chappu had wounded her deeply, but the things the woman had said about Wakka…those shook her world to its foundations. Lulu didn't want her advice, but she had had no one else to turn to for such a long time, that she found the temptation to probe for more of the woman's counsel to be irresistible.

"Why should I give any thought to anything you have said?" Lulu yelled back. "You can't possibly know much more than I do. Your advice is probably worthless," Lulu finished dismissively.  
With a nasty smile, Mercy said, "You don't have to take my advice about Wakka, of course. It may be moot, anyway. We have to defeat Yu Yevon. Nothing says we will all walk away from that battle, after all, does it, Lulu?" The mage blanched, even under her makeup, as her eyes met Mercy's. The odds were that they would not all walk away. A lesson that she herself should have learned a long time ago. Mercy continued, her face and voice both slightly softer, "Lulu, I'm twice your age. And I've held on to Auron for five years, when you couldn't keep his attention for ten minutes." Mercy paused and prayed silently, _I hope that's about right_, then went on, "I think it's fair to say I know a few things you don't know yet. Whether that means my advice is any good is a different question, but I've had time to have experience that you haven't. Some of it could be useful to you, if you let it." Mercy sighed. "Or not. That part is up to you."

Lulu's mouth opened in stunned surprise as she swiftly made the calculations. Before the younger woman could ask, Mercy decided to simply provide the answer to the obvious question. "I am forty-five, Lulu, if that's what you are wondering."  
Half to herself, the mage muttered, "I always thought you must be younger than Sir Auron."  
"Obviously, you thought wrong," Mercy drawled sarcastically. "Why does it matter?" the older woman asked, more sharply.  
"Sin killed my parents when I was five," Lulu began, then stopped, waiting for a response.  
"Your Sin took my parents when I was seventeen," Mercy answered. "I was older than you were when they died…but that was almost thirty years ago, now. Longer ago than you have been alive, Lulu."  
The mage nodded her understanding of the point. She continued her own story, slowly drawing out her words. "I learned not to…rely on others too much, after that. To keep my own counsel. In time, others came to rely on me. It has been…part of the pattern of my life…until now."  
"And you resented the hell out of me for taking your place," Mercy finished for her.  
"Yes, I did," Lulu agreed, her face coloring with shame. "And you did it so easily, and I could not understand why, or how, until now. That made it even worse."

Mercy looked over at the younger woman, who was still standing untouched in the middle of the storm, and was now tapping her finger on her lower lip, lost in thought. _I think Lulu has just discovered that advice is one of those things that is much more fun to give than it is to receive, _she thought_. But I'm too tired to deal with this anymore now. I've gotten enough out of this…I hope_. "Lulu, are we done here? Can we please call a truce, at least? Have we made that much progress?" Mercy asked in a mixture of hope and resignation.

"A…truce?" Lulu asked hesitantly in return.  
"Yes, a truce. As in call off the war. Quit the sniping attacks. You know, that sort of thing. Or, tell me what's left to fight about it, so we can get that done." The older woman ran a hand through her hair, exhausted and exasperated at the same time.

Lulu considered for several moments, as Mercy waited impatiently. _She is right, of course. The divisiveness cannot continue. And…it has been so long since I have had another woman with whom I could discuss matters…as an equal. She may know more about some things than I do…and I know more about some things than she does. And her advice is certainly…interesting_. Lulu finally met the other woman's eyes. "I agree. We have a truce," the mage stated, nodding her head sharply as she moved toward the edge of the building, doing Mercy the courtesy of not making her come out into the storm to shake hands.

Mercy felt the tension in her neck and shoulders ease as she clasped the mage's hand in hers. _This isn't perfect, but it's a good start_, she decided. But before she went back inside, she couldn't resist one last bit of advice. "Lulu, please think about what I said about Wakka," Mercy urged.  
"I will," Lulu promised, "on one condition. Will you answer a personal question?"  
_Not again_, Mercy groaned inside. "Perhaps," she sighed aloud.  
"Do you ever regret your choice of Sir Auron?" Lulu asked her, true curiosity on her face.  
Mercy considered for a moment, then replied, "If you mean, do I regret that I chose Auron instead of a different man, or none at all, then the answer is no, I don't." Then Mercy grinned at her, and continued, "But if you mean, do I ever want to knock some sense into his head, then the answer is yes, of course I do, and frequently. And you will, too, no matter how much you love the man you do choose, whether it's Wakka or someone else."  
For a moment, the two women smiled at each other in complete accord, then Mercy turned and entered the warm, dry Travel Agency.

In the morning, Rikku asked the Al Bhed girl at the desk about the chest outside the Agency, and discovered that it held prizes for those who were especially good a dodging the lightning bolts on the Thunder Plains. It seemed there was supposed to be a really fantastic reward if you dodged two hundred lightning bolts in a row, but no one had ever won that particular prize. The desk clerk thought that it was just a gimmick to get people to stay at the Agency and keep trying to win it. Meanwhile, Tidus read a book on the counter about some Qactaurs that were supposed to be trapped inside stones that you had to pray to along the road. They'd seen the stones as they had traveled down the path, so they were certain that the story was more than just a legend. Now they had both challenge and quest in hand, so they split up and took care of both objectives at the same time. By the end of the day, they had both Kimahri's Spirit Lance and the Venus Sigil.

They chose to spend the night at the Agency again, and then travel back to the crystal in Macalania the next morning. Once they had obtained the Spirit Lance, it was a simple matter to determine that the Saturn Crest and Sigil were the pieces that matched it, so there was no reason to delay returning to Macalania to merge the weapon. _Except one_, Auron thought, as he studied the Ronso now striding purposefully ahead of him on the Thunder Plains. _How in the hell am I supposed to catch a full-grown Ronso if he falls?_

Auron still didn't have an answer by the time they all reached Macalania. Not unless, 'Pray, Now,' counted as an answer. He glanced over at Wakka, who looked white as a sheet under his tan. As Kimahri approached the crystal, Wakka went down on one knee, his lips moving soundlessly in prayer. _Praise the fayth that Kimahri is a 'little Ronso', _Auron thought_. I don't think I could manage Biran or Yenke, not even with Wakka's help_.

Kimahri seemed imperturbable. His feline face was calm as he walked confidently toward the crystal, his right paw wrapped around the spear, the crest and sigil cradled easily in the claws of his left. When he reached his destination, he held the insignia up against the metal blade of the weapon, and planted the spear butt firmly on the path. Then he braced his feet, and felt the world ripped away.

Auron watched as the crest and sigil dissolved into the spear, and held his breath as the Ronso gripped the weapon now with both paws, then held on grimly and swayed while he was taken up in his vision of the great weapon's past. Every time Kimahri's legs shifted, Wakka made a noise like he was the one who was going to pass out, or throw up. Auron was just about ready to pitch the boy over the side of the trail himself when the Ronso's knees locked and straightened, and he realized that Kimahri was back with them. Heaving a sigh of relief, he unlocked his own braced legs with a painful crack and waited for his Ronso friend to tell them what he had seen.

Kimahri slowly blinked his great yellow eyes and said, "We go down now. Then Kimahri tell story of weapon." Everyone wanted to hear what Kimahri had seen, so they trooped down the path rapidly. Tidus wondered how Kimahri was going to do this. He remembered how much he had seen, how detailed it was, it had been like living through it. Kimahri, well, Kimahri just didn't talk that much. How could a Ronso tell a story like that?

As they settled down in a circle on the ground, Kimahri began to tell his tale. "Kimahri saw south part of Thunder Plains. But not like now. Lightning not strike towers. Lightning strike ground always. Vision show Kimahri one man, in center of many. Man was…like Sir Auron. Other men follow him."  
Wakka interrupted to ask, "Did you say the man looked like Sir Auron?"  
"No," Kimahri replied, ruffled. "Kimahri not say, 'look like Sir Auron', Kimahri say, 'like Sir Auron'. Man was warrior, guardian…leader like Sir Auron, but did not look like him. Man was not so big, had lighter fur, and light eyes."  
"Kimahri, how do you know that this man was a guardian?" Yuna asked more gently.  
"Man came to him, called him Sir Ragor. Said he was messenger from Lord Gandof," the Ronso guardian answered his summoner in his bass rumble. Yuna gasped.  
"What did the messenger say?" Lulu asked sharply.  
Kimahri bared his teeth in annoyance but still answered the mage. "Messenger said Lord Gandof want to know if Sir Ragor finished work in south towers. Sir Ragor said work was almost done. Said he would send signal from top of tower when work finished. Sir Ragor told messenger to ask Lord Gandof to," Kimahri paused and blinked a couple of times, clearly wanting to make sure he said the other guardian's words correctly, "give him time to 'run like hell' to bottom of tower before starting spell."

The Ronso looked around the circle, waiting for someone else to prod him with another question. When no one met his challenge, he continued, "Sir Ragor talked with other men. Went to tops of three towers. Came down. Talked more. Sent the men away, south. Ragor climb to top of last tower, set spear in post in corner. This spear," Kimahri said, tapping the butt of the Spirit Lance on the ground. "When spear set in post, lightning flash around top of tower. Ragor climb fast down stairs in middle of tower, run south to men. Men shout. Ragor turn, see lightning strike from sky, start in north, strike one tower, then next, then next, then all towers, like now. Men cheer."  
"Then what happened, Kimahri?" Yuna prompted.  
"Ragor said he must go to Lord Gandof. Man asked Ragor about spear. Ragor said spear should be changed for metal rod like others, but man should have spear. Keep to remember Ragor. Man asked where Ragor and Lord Gandof go next. Ragor said…pilgrimage." Kimahri bowed his head, in silent respect for Lord Gandof's guardian.

End Chapter Thirty-Four.


	35. Check It Out

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The song, "Check it Out" was written and performed by John Mellencamp.

* * *

When they returned to the airship that afternoon, Mercy sought out Rin in one of his usual haunts. "How may I be of assistance?" he greeted her.  
"I believe we can assist each other, Master Rin," Mercy answered, trying to project complete calm and utter confidence, although she was a little shaky on both at the moment. She knew she couldn't let the merchant know how important this deal was to her, or he would take way too much advantage of the situation.  
"I certainly hope so, Lady Mercy," he replied.  
Mercy figured that she needed all the help she could get with Rin, so she decided not to forgo the title as she usually did. "I have a business proposition for you, sir."  
"I am, as they say, all ears." And he was, too, she could tell. She had a strong feeling that Rin's primary motivation in life was business. 

"I noticed that you made a sphere recording of my impromptu musical 'practice session', without my permission," Mercy began, easing around to the point of the whole discussion.  
"You have a beautiful voice, Lady, and the music is unusual. You are yourself an…interesting person. I do not believe that anyone in Spira was aware that Sir Auron had married. Any one of those reasons would make the spheres quite popular. Taken together, well…" Rin spread his hands, indicating wordlessly that he expected to do quite well out of the deal.

"I plan on doing more concerts aboard ship, and recording some private practice sessions as well. Would you also like to distribute spheres of those, Master Rin?" Mercy asked, her tone indicating that she already knew the answer.  
"Yes, I would, Lady Mercy," the merchant admitted easily. He would save his energy for their discussion of the terms, now that he understood what the terms of her proposition were likely to be.

"Good. Then these are my terms. You may record any public performances, and distribute the spheres. I will make spheres of my private practice sessions, and deliver them to you for safekeeping. You will not distribute the practice session spheres until I either give you permission or in the event of my death or disappearance. Now, as there would be no spheres without my performance…I think that the proceeds from the sale of the spheres should go ninety percent to me, or my heirs, and ten percent to you as my, shall we say, agent? Do you agree?" She tried to make it sound as if he couldn't possibly disagree with her conclusions.

"Lady, you drive a hard bargain. I believe that I can agree to all of your terms, except for the sharing of the proceeds. I think that ten percent is much too small. There will be considerable distribution and promotional costs, not to mention the time and effort my Agents and Agencies must expend in shipping and handling. Spheres are quite fragile, you know," he answered reasonably.  
After a great deal of haggling, they settled on a sixty/forty split, sixty for Mercy or her heirs, forty for Rin, and had it all drawn up in a contract. Mercy named the entire party as her heirs, even including Lulu, knowing as she signed the document too much of how it would turn out in the end.

-

They returned to Zanarkand, to take the first step in determining if Lulu's earlier surmise at the submerged temple had been correct. Yuna had decided it was time to get Seymour's aeon, and that they had recovered from the sorrow they had found there the first time. The second trip was anti-climactic. Without Yunalesca, the old stadium had lost much of its power. It was still filled with fearsome fiends, and untold numbers of pyreflies, but ghostly images no longer stalked its halls. Their predecessors now only walked in their memories, not by their sides. One final puzzle awaited them in the Chamber of Trials; they solved it with ease, then returned to the airship for the journey to the watery temple on Baaj Island.

The map had indicated that there was a weapon to be found in Baaj, and in the former front portico of the submerged temple Tidus' prize mirror led them to it. The weapon turned out to be an Onion Knight moogle doll, clearly intended for the black mage in their party. In the Cloister of Trials of Baaj Temple, they found that all the statues were now activated, and that the door to the fayth was open. Mercy looked at the open portal and spoke directly to the mage, saying, "It looks like you were right on the money, Lulu."

Lulu stared, momentarily taken aback. She had been rethinking that conversation at the Thunder Plains Travel Agency for several days, and had wondered if she had given in too easily. She had thought that the 'truce' the swordswoman had mentioned hadn't really meant anything beyond a temporary cessation of hostilities, entered into in a state of exhaustion on both their parts. But now, hearing the older woman acknowledge publicly that she, Lulu, had been the one to see the correct answer to this puzzle, made her wonder if perhaps Mercy hadn't meant every word she had said that day. And that maybe, after all, her advice might be worth thinking about…at least a little bit. The black mage nodded to the older woman, accepting her acknowledgement, and showing just a tiny amount of respect as well. _If she can show that she knows her own limitations in public…maybe I can think a little about mine, at least in private,_ Lulu decided.

Inside the cloister, they discovered the identity of the aeon. All their accumulated guesswork proved correct, it was Seymour's aeon that was hidden in these water-drenched ruins. But they were shocked anew to realize that the fayth behind Anima, the aeon of pain, was Seymour's mother, the woman they had seen in Zanarkand. _We should have known_, Mercy thought, as her mind reeled. _I should have known! I'm glad she will help us, but I wish I could ask her some questions. But I know I can't. Shiva, yes, I had the right, but not this one. And it may be for the best. If I asked her what I really want to know, she would probably change her mind about helping Yuna. What the hell was the woman thinking? He was a child! He hadn't had a chance to live his life yet. Did she expect him to go out and die? And what did she think was going to happen to such a strange, lonely boy who had suddenly been given all that power along with so much trauma and grief? What kind of drugs was she on to do that to her son?_ She looked over at Tidus. _At least Jecht sent Auron back to try to fix some of the damage he had done. She just made hers a thousand times worse. How many would be alive today if she had just decided to die in peace! Is this what Sin does? Make all bad choices into worse ones? _In sudden anguish she pressed her cheek against Auron's arm. _If we had ever had a child, I would have tried to do better than that!_

-

After they returned to the airship, Auron called for a conference to determine their next destination. He was having second thoughts about the worth of the so-called 'Celestial Weapons', or, to be more precise, the lengths to which they had to go to obtain them. He had found the entire business of praying at the qactuar stones to be somewhere between absurd and insane, even if his participation had consisted entirely of standing around and watching while others made obeisance to the stones. And waiting around while Tidus raced chocobos all day had been bad enough, but having to stand by while little Rikku had dodged butterflies, risking her neck if she accidentally touched the wrong colored one, had been more than he was willing to stomach, at least without some at least some reassurance that the rewards would prove valuable enough to justify the time and effort being spent.

As soon as they had all gathered, Auron began by challenging both Tidus and Kimahri, "You each have one of these 'Celestial Weapons'. What makes them so extraordinary?"  
Tidus was the first to answer, which surprised no one. "Besides the vision, you mean?" Auron growled in impatience. "All right, all right. Just checking," the younger man continued cheekily. "Besides, I know what you're asking, old man. You want to know if they're worth the trouble." Auron's right hand formed into a fist. Tidus was trying his patience.

Kimahri's voice rumbled into the tense discussion. "Kimahri use Spirit Lance in Zanarkand. Spirit Lance hit harder than Kimahri's best spear, hurt fiends much more. Spirit Lance is lighter than other spears, but stronger. Kimahri hit back faster, more often with this spear. Kimahri has never had spear so light, but so strong, with edge so sharp. And Kimahri think weapons must be found. Kimahri think we have duty to other guardians." Then the Ronso stopped speaking as abruptly as he had started.

Tidus picked up the thread, more seriously now. "Yeah, I agree with Kimahri. I agree with everything he said. This sword…it's really something. Of all the swords I've used since I've been here, this one, well, it's like it was made for me, or something. Everything I do is just, better. I hit harder with it, and faster. And like Kimahri said, I'm able to counterstrike more often, too. Sometimes, it almost feels like I'm learning from it, which seems really weird. I can't even explain that part. But I think Kimahri's right; I think that Lady Yocun would want her sword used to bring the Calm, especially since we're trying to do this so Sin never comes back. It just seems like the right thing to do. So yeah, I think they're worth what we have to go through, even if some of it does seem a little crazy." He grinned at Auron, knowing the older man well enough to guess what was really bothering him.

Wakka surprised everyone by stating, "I think I know what one of the weapons is, and, whatever you decide about the rest, I'm still gonna go after it."  
Lulu, shocked, stared at him. "Are you really sure what one of the weapons is?" she asked.  
He returned her stare, for once looking at her as though she was the one who wasn't too bright. "Lu, of course I ain't sure. I just said that, didn't I? But I think that one of the weapons is Lord Ohalland's ball. They say that one of his guardians brought it back, after he beat Sin, ya?" He looked earnestly around at his companions. "It would be an honor to carry Lord Ohalland's ball when we meet Sin. You understand, don't you?" His sincerity and his resolve were written clearly on his face.

Yuna tapped her staff gently on the floor. The movement caught everyone's attention, and the entire company stared at her. "I think," she began softly, then she continued with more conviction in her voice, "that we must find and complete all the weapons. Not just because of the weapons themselves, but also because we are trying to bring the Eternal Calm. I don't know why, but I think that the map and the insignia and the weapons are appearing because it is their time, and it would be wrong if we neglected them. But," and here, her voice faltered again, "The visions they bring are heart-rending. I do not think that anyone else should have to go through the process twice. I would say that we should not return to Macalania to merge each weapon until we have all the parts for it. Besides," she turned to Auron, and smiled a little, "going back and forth to Macalania so often would be a 'waste of time'."

The corner of Auron's mouth lifted slightly in response, a half-smile of acknowledgement, and he nodded. "So be it," he replied to his summoner.

They finally mapped out a route that would accomplish their goals: visit the remaining aeons, capture more fiends for the arena, investigate the rest of the symbols on the map, and return to Belgemine in order for Yuna to acquire the Magus Sisters. Auron believed that by the time they had completed those tasks, they would be ready to face Omega. If he were correct, they would then face Sin, and Yu Yevon. If his confidence in their abilities proved misplaced, they could all discuss it on the Farplane, if Yuna lived long enough to send them. They decided initially to return to Bikanel first, to fulfill the sigil quest marked on the map, then go to Kilika, then Luca, and retrace their steps northward along the highroads until they reached Guadosalam, then board the airship again to use Gagazet and Yojimbo's Cavern as final tests before reaching the Calm Lands and the Arena and Remiem.

As the ship flew toward Bikanel Island, Mercy spent the evening in their cabin, trying to program a few more songs into the little machina. It was not going well. She decided to take a shower, before she threw the machine across the room in frustration. She thought it was ironic, that in Zanarkand, she had always intended that her music would be what she left behind her. Not children, like most women, but songs. Then, when Auron had come into her life, she had learned that of everything and everyone she had known and loved, or who had known her or known of her, only he and Tidus would go out into the 'real' world, and that Auron, for certain, was living on borrowed time. But she had grabbed her life those five years and wrung every second of joy out of it she could, and then, in the last moments, asked for another way, and it had been given, and here she was, trying again to make song-children, on her own borrowed time, and still wringing joy out of every second. _Maybe not quite every second_, she thought, glaring at the machina again.

In the shower, she wondered where Auron was, and then remembered that he was using the gymnasium to spar with Kimahri. The Ronso had discovered that he had a lot of spare time, since it was now rather awkward for him to keep watch outside Yuna's door every night. In her mental background, her brain was going over the machina again, and she had another idea about the programming. As soon as she got out of the shower, she slipped on her robe and went to sit cross-legged on the bed, trying it out. By the time Auron returned, she was just as frustrated as she had been before, hunched over the machine, a small tool clenched between her teeth, cursing softly and incoherently as she tinkered.

She was oblivious to his presence when the door opened, so he simply watched her work, leaning against the wall with an indulgent smile on his face at first, until the smile was replaced by an expression that was much more bittersweet, filled with sadness, as well as love. He understood why the music was so important to her. He had accepted, long ago, that a guardian's fate was to be forgotten. He believed that they would be together, in some form, on the Farplane. It was one of the few beliefs that he had left. She had told him, back in the ruins of Zanarkand, that she did not believe in the Farplane, she only believed in him. He loved her, but he thought her belief was misplaced. She thought the only continuance of her soul would be through her music, and he knew that she was trying to ensure that through the machina she was cursing at so vehemently at the moment.

She was still, and would always be, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. To him, the silver in her hair, the lines of laughter beside her eyes only added to her allure. He hoped that her robe served to keep the chill off her back, because it gaped open over her breasts as she bent over the machine, a view that had not lost any of its power to arouse him, not in the five years they had been together. He removed his coat and armor, making a significant amount of noise as he did. He was concerned that, if he startled her, she would swallow the tool she was chewing on. She finally looked up when he sat on the bed to remove his boots. "What is the matter with the machina?" he asked cautiously.

She sighed in frustration, and took the probe out of her mouth. "Daf used to make this look so easy. It's not. I wish he were here right now." She blinked away tears that she felt it was useless to let fall.  
His hand caressed her cheek. There was nothing he could say that would make this pain any easier to bear. Gently, he took the machina out of her hands, and tucked it under the edge of the bed. She opened her mouth to protest, but he could tell it was going to be half-hearted. "It will still be there in the morning. Stop for now," he urged.  
"It will still be a Zu in the morning," she muttered, as he gathered her into his arms, and stopped any further protests with kisses.

-

As planned, they stopped in Bikanel. The quest to gain the sigil seemed endless, but it was eventually accomplished. Mercy decided to pass on seeing the wonders of the desert after the first day, and spent the second day practically beating the little machina into submission, and making some private recordings, including some songs that she did not believe she could, or in some cases should, manage to sing in public. She didn't think Auron would ever forgive her if she sang 'Slow Hand' in public anywhere on Spira. She recorded 'Go Insane' as well. The song had only required one public performance, and that, it had already had. 'Moondance' was the most difficult one for her to sing. It had always been Dafydd's solo. When she sang it, she couldn't help but hear his voice in her mind, in her heart. As she laid down the track of the recording, she promised herself that she would try to sing it for an audience, one more time. She thought Daf would want it that way. Although she knew that Auron believed that their 'souls' would reach the Farplane, she had never shared his belief. And in any case, her music was the only legacy she felt certain of. In the tiny, locked cabin, she recorded a song she had written in acknowledgement of that belief.

A million young poets  
Screamin´ out their words  
Maybe someday  
Those words will be heard  
By future generations  
Ridin´ on the highways that we built  
Maybe they'll have a better understanding  
Check it out  
Hope they'll have a better understanding 

_I hope they do have a better understanding_, she sighed to herself. _But as long as they still sing our songs, Dafydd's and mine, it will be enough. Even if they no longer remember us, it will have to be enough_. Then she sat down in the empty room, and cried for all the songs her brother would never sing again.

End Chapter Thirty-Five


	36. Time In a Bottle

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The title of this chapter is from a song originally performed by Jim Croce.

* * *

They visited Kilika just long enough to pay a visit to Ifrit, and to collect more fiends for the Arena, then they let the airship carry them to Luca. It dropped them off on the road just north of the city, and they walked in, down the stairs they had set off from months before. There were three symbols lined up over Luca on the map, crest, sigil and weapon; one seek and two challenges, and they had no idea where to begin. So they started off with a drink in the Luca café. Tidus and Wakka stood at the bar, while the rest of the party sat around a table and tried to figure out exactly what to do now that they were actually in Luca. Kimahri, standing behind Yuna as usual, did not participate in the discussion. Mercy's attention wandered, since she didn't know the city, and she found herself staring over Tidus' shoulder at the sphere screen above the bar. 

The sphere screen reminded her of home. It was the first openly displayed machina she had seen since she left the dream city, and the images mesmerized her. The sound was turned down, so she couldn't hear what was being said, but she kept seeing the same pictures repeated every so often, and something caught her attention. She studied the screen closely, then a smile broke over her face, and she got up from her seat and went to stand between Tidus and Wakka, putting her hands on their shoulders and turning them around to face the screen, letting her arms continue to rest on both of their backs.  
"Gentlemen," she began, laughing, "I sure hope you have a good Blitzball team."  
"Yeah, sure we do," Wakka answered uneasily. "Why'd you ask?" he continued warily. Mercy was making him nervous, even more nervous than she usually did. For one thing, it still seemed weird to him, not to call her "Lady' Mercy. And he felt uncomfortable, with her standing so close like this. He knew it didn't bother Tidus, but it bothered him, a lot. He wasn't sure how Lulu would react, for one thing. He could tell things were a little better between the two women, and he didn't want to do anything to make things worse. Life was a lot more peaceful when Lulu wasn't pissed off at the world the way she had been.  
"Because," she said airily, "you have to enter the tournament they're promoting. And you have to win. Look at the trophy." She dropped her arm from Wakka's back and pointed at the screen when they showed the prize trophy again. It was a huge platter, with a gold center and silver and gold knot work all around it. She slid her hand into the crook of Wakka's elbow. "Do you see what I mean?"  
Wakka stared at the trophy. It looked like a typical Blitz trophy, big and not good for anything except taking up space. Tidus read off the information about the tournament while they waited for the plate to show up again. "It says that the tournament is in three days, and that the purse is twenty thousand gil to whichever team survives three rounds. And the winner gets…I see it now," the blond young man breathed.  
"I do too, brudda," Wakka agreed. "Now we know what one of the challenges is. Would you," he looked down at Mercy, "please go tell the others, ya?"  
"Sure," Mercy answered easily. Then she whispered, "Remember, if you don't win, Rikku is going to have to steal that thing." Tidus laughed as she squeezed his shoulder, and then she slid her hand out from Wakka's arm, and walked back to the table to rejoin the rest of the party.

Both men turned to watch her retreat. Wakka muttered under his breath, "I wonder if Lulu will ever get to be like her?"  
"What's that?" Tidus asked sharply, not quite sure if he'd heard right.  
"Never mind, brudda," Wakka answered, brushing a hand over his face as if brushing off the remark. But he watched as Mercy came to stand at Auron's side, after discovering that someone at another table had taken her chair while she had been at the bar with them. Auron swiftly stood, giving his own seat to his wife. Then, as Auron stood behind Mercy, while she talked, he dropped his left shoulder out of his coat, straightened his arm, rested his bare hand on her shoulder, and began to rub his fingers against the side of her neck. Wakka stared at the older guardians, as Mercy lifted her hand and clasped her husband's for a moment, her wedding ring glinting next to his. While everyone's attention was turned to Mercy, Wakka looked at Lulu, and wondered if it was even possible that they could be like that, someday.

Behind the bar, someone coughed to get his and Tidus' attention. They turned back around to face the bartender. "Excuse me, but aren't you Wakka, the captain of the Besaid Aurochs?" the attendant asked.  
"Yeah, sure," Wakka answered, glad to turn his attention away from his own problems for at least a minute or two.  
"I thought I recognized you," the woman replied, relieved to be right. "I saw you win the Crystal Cup this year with your team. That was really something. I've been following blitz for a long time, but that was pretty spectacular, even before the fiends showed up."  
"Thanks, I appreciate that," Wakka responded.  
"Look, Wakka, or should I say, Sir Wakka, I know that you are Lady Yuna's guardian. I've watched you and your team play since the Cup, and well, I've got something that I think you should have. Would you mind waiting here for just a moment?"  
"No problem," the big blitzer replied, as the proprietor went to the end of the bar and dove underneath to retrieve this mysterious 'something' that seemed to have been stored behind several other boxes and containers, because Wakka and Tidus heard the woman shoving heavy boxes and canisters along the floor and cursing. Wakka shrugged his shoulders as they waited, uncertain whether or not to offer to help.

The woman emerged from under the bar with a box in her hands and presented it solemnly to Wakka. "This has been in our family for many generations. It's been a long time since a Blitzball player has gone to face Sin. I want you to have this when you do."  
Wakka opened the box, and stared down at his greatest dream. Lovingly wrapped in black velvet lay a blitzball that had been transformed into the ultimate weapon among blitzballs, one with razor-sharp blades protruding from its equator, and there were runes etched into the blades that spelled out the words 'World Champion'. Wakka knew that he held Lord Ohalland's ball in his hands, and he was filled with awe. His mouth fell open, and he started to form the words to refuse the gift, even though he knew he had already said how badly he wanted it, but the proprietor stopped him by saying, "Please, sir, do not refuse. I know in my heart that this is the right thing to do."

When he heard those words, Wakka realized that he couldn't say no, he couldn't even protest, and being honest with himself, he didn't even want to let the ball out of his sight. He coughed, swallowed, and finally said, "Thanks. I promise to use it, just like you said. I'll take it to fight Sin. Lady Yuna will bring the Calm."

The woman stared into his eyes, found the sincerity of his promise, and bowed her head in acknowledgement. Wakka nodded in return, and went to join the others, before he said anything more and spoiled the moment, since he knew that he would if he opened his mouth again. Tidus waved his thanks to the proprietor, and followed his friend.

When Wakka carried the box to the others, he couldn't even manage to tell them what was inside, so he just opened it and showed them the contents, while he continued to stand over the ball, still struck speechless with wonder. Plans swirled around him while he sat and stared at the ball that Lord Ohalland had used to fight Sin. When he came back to the present, he discovered what had been decided in his 'absence'. He would be going back to Besaid on the airship, to pick up the team, while everyone else stayed at an inn in Luca. They were all going to find an inn right now, now that he was 'awake', and then go back with him to the airship to pack some stuff to keep with them while they waited for him to come back. Tidus would sign the team up for the tournament while he was gone. All he had to do was fetch the team so they could win the tournament.

Early in the evening before the tournament, Auron and Mercy climbed partway up the stairs to the Mi'ihen Highroad, and found themselves standing on the semi-circular platform, watching the city lights come up as the daylight faded into dusk. She leaned her forearms on the railing, and, as he had once done long ago, he took up a similar position next to her, his shoulder and arm pressed into hers. He smiled as he reflected on the past few, precious days.

After Wakka had left with the airship, and they had all trudged back to the inn, they had concluded that it was not necessary for the rest of them to remain together during their stay in Luca. Tidus would be joining Wakka and the rest of the team while they were in the city, and Luca was the safest, most secure place they would be for the remainder of their journey. If they stayed together, they would only draw attention to themselves, and there was no need for it. Kimahri would guard Yuna while Tidus was occupied, and the others could do as they pleased during their short stay. They had arranged to meet together again at the inn on the morning of the tournament. Auron did not know exactly how Lulu and Rikku had chosen to occupy their time, although he suspected that they had spent most of it with Yuna.

He and Mercy had chosen to spend this brief time alone, away from the others. _It was an indulgence_, he realized, _one that we have not had since Zanarkand, one that I do not expect we will have again_. He had feared that his wife would choose that which all husbands dreaded, that she would wish to spend her time, perish the thought, shopping. And she had, he remembered, but not much. Just for a few items that he was just as grateful she did not purchase from Rin, or from anyone else he knew, for that matter, not after that first embarrassing shopping expedition aboard the airship. And there had been one shop where he had taken one look at the display window, and chosen to remain outside while she conducted her business with the storekeeper. _But I am looking forward to seeing the results of that particular expedition at some point…_A wolfish grin crossed his face.

He stared out at the city. More lights became visible, as the dusk deepened into night. _We explored the city, just as we did Zanarkand_, he thought. _We saw…all the places I remembered, and discovered new ones. I only wish…we had time to do it all again…because I will not return. This is farewell._ He bowed his head.  
Her voice came to him quietly, out of the growing darkness. "You're saying 'good-bye' aren't you?"  
He nodded, finding himself unable to speak the words. He thought she would understand.  
"I'm sorry we didn't have more time in Bevelle," she said sadly, as she rested her hand on his arm.  
He looked up sharply at that. "I am not. Bevelle…" he choked. "I see too much of Braska's ghost in Bevelle." His voice was hoarse with pain. "The ruins were enough."  
Her lips near his ear, she whispered, "You still miss him." He felt the warmth of her breath against his skin.  
_She sees too deeply into my soul_, he recognized. _She always has_. He closed his eye, holding back his grief by the force of his will. In a rasping whisper he said, "Yes. But I will see him on the Farplane."

_This Farplane of his scares me. I still don't understand it. I don't believe in it. I'm glad he's sure there's an afterlife, or whatever it is, but I'm just not convinced. But I envy his certainty. And who knows, maybe I don't have enough of a soul to send, despite his dreams, but most likely he does. Anyway, if it makes him feel better right now, hey, I'm all for it._ She slid her arm through his and rested her head against his shoulder.

They stood together, and let the peace of the night fill them. After she felt the tension ease from his body, she tried to shift their conversation into a lighter topic. "This is where you told me you were from, when we first met," she chided him gently.  
"Yes. That was the story I first told you," he answered softly.  
"At the time, I couldn't even tell it was one of your 'stories'," she said, with a little laugh.  
"Well, I'd been telling that particular story for fifteen years by then." His expression grew darker, colder. "Sabra was about half a day's journey west of here, along the coast. After it was destroyed, I always said I was from Luca. No explanations needed that way." He closed his eye, and she saw both his eye sockets squeeze shut, even behind the screen of his dark glasses. She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder, and he anchored her against his side, his hand on her face. Blindly, she reached up and spread her own hand along his jaw. _Sometimes, we still cannot find any easy topics_, she thought with sorrow. _Not even after all these years_.

"When I first came to your Zanarkand," he whispered hoarsely, "it was exactly like the first time I came to Luca. I was just a child, then. But I was gripped by that same sense of awe…mystery…wonder. I did not know that there could be so many people packed into one place…or so many fabulous things to see." He paused, seemingly uncertain, and she lifted her head from his shoulder to look into his face. "But this must all seem backwards and almost barbarous to you, compared to Zanarkand."  
"No, Auron, it doesn't. Luca is alive, and growing, in a way that my Zanarkand never was. I think it's marvelous." She stopped, and searched his face, seeing something more behind his words. "You love this place, don't you?" she asked quietly.  
"You mean Luca?" he questioned back, surprised and wary. _Her question means more than the words, I know. But what is it this time, I wonder?_  
"I mean Spira," she stated, certain now.  
He stared back at her, not certain at all for a moment. His voice was still a little shaky when the single word came out of his mouth, the answer, "Yes," and he knew it for the truth. Straightening, he pulled her into his arms, and hugged her close and tight, and buried his face in her hair.

When they returned to the inn, there was a note from Tidus waiting for them. It read: "Guys, I thought you should know. They made us change locker rooms this morning. The old one had some kind of ventilation problem or something. Anyway, we found the crest in one of the lockers, so we're all set. See you in the morning. T."

In the morning, before the tournament, Mercy told Tidus that they had gotten his message. "So now all that's left is for you guys to win the tournament," she teased Tidus.  
"Or have Rikku steal the trophy and then get out of town real fast," Tidus whispered to Mercy before he ran off to rejoin his teammates.  
Auron looked down at his wife in alarm. "What did he say?"  
"Well, it is the other option," she replied with a shrug.  
"Then they had better win," he answered darkly.

There were six teams entered in the tournament. The Aurochs, and the Luca team, the Goers, but also the Kilika Beasts had come in, and the Guado Glories and the Al Bhed Psyches were still playing, and those two teams were clearly out for each other's blood. The match-up board showed that they had been seeded so that they wouldn't meet unless they both made the finals. The bookmaker's odds, both legal and illegal, seemed to consider this an extremely unlikely event. There was a sixth team playing, a pickup team made up of blitzers who either couldn't make one of the more established teams or had washed out for one reason or another. Their chances weren't rated very highly, either. The Goers and the Aurochs had both been given a "by" in the first round, so the members of those squads got to sit out and watch as the other four teams pounded on each other in the first game, and look over their opponents for their own first matches. Everyone in the stadium hoped that this tournament final would be a rematch of the Crystal Cup, the Aurochs vs. the Goers, and there were already some side-bets just on that possibility alone, in some of the darker corners of the arena.

Mercy hoped that Tidus and Wakka were paying a lot more attention to the two first-round games than the rest of the party, or at least to the game between the Kilika team and the Guados, since the Aurochs were slated to play the winner. The Beasts handed the Guados their heads, figuratively and almost literally, as she noticed that one of the Guado team members had to be carried out of the game unconscious. In the other first-round game, the Al Bhed Psyches forcibly reminded the members of the pick-up team exactly why each of them hadn't made it into one of the professional squads, the score there ended at 6-1 in favor of the Psyches, and the new team only made the one goal because the Al Bheds seemed to be playing some of their second-string players in the second half. The other team was that bad.

Everyone in their little party sat up and paid attention as soon as the match between the Besaid Aurochs and the Kilika Beasts began, and it was clear from the volume of the cheering that the crowd in the stadium had either grown considerably since the first match or was paying closer attention to the game as well. The Kilika squad played hard, and they kept the score close the entire game. At the half, the Aurochs were only up two goals to one, and the only thing that kept the score from being tied was a miraculous save by Keepa in the closing seconds of the half. The Beasts looked pretty pumped as they swam out of the sphere. In spite of missing that last goal, they clearly knew they were close. But when both teams returned from their respective locker rooms for the start of the second period, the Aurochs all looked like Wakka had blistered their ears if not their backsides during the break, and they came out with an immediate assault on the Kilika goalkeeper that put the Besaid team on the scoreboard again within the first thirty seconds after halftime. The Beasts came roaring back, and the two teams traded goals for the rest of the period, but the Kilika team was never able to erase the Aurochs' lead, and the game finally ended with the score Aurochs 6, Beasts 4. The Aurochs were in the finals.

While the Aurochs rested in their locker room and watched, the Luca Goers used the Al Bhed Psyches to conduct a clinic on how the game of Blitzball should be played. The Psyches went down. They weren't even able to score a single goal against the Goers. The scoreboard read Goers 2, Psyches 0, at the end of the game. The Al Bhed team swam off dejectedly, as the hometown crowd roared in triumph.

After a break long enough for the crowd to have time to patronize both the concessionaires and the betting windows one last time, the final match between the Besaid Aurochs and the Luca Goers got underway. One thing was clear from the opening blitzoff, the crowd was cheering for both teams from the very beginning this time, unlike the Crystal Cup finals. Fifteen seconds into the game, the Goers tried one of the nasty, illegal moves that the officials had let pass during the Cup game, and were immediately called on it this time. This game was going to be called fairly. In the sphere pool, Wakka gave Tidus a 'thumbs up' gesture, just before the referees restarted play.

The game was hard-fought. The Goers were out to avenge their loss in the Crystal Cup tournament, to prove that it had been 'just a fluke', and that they were still the real champions. The Aurochs wanted to prove that they were the real champions, that they had earned that Cup, fair and square, and Tidus and Wakka both had the added incentive of knowing that they really needed to win the trophy. At halftime, the score was tied, 2-2. Thirty seconds before the end of regulation play, the Goers were up, 4-3, but Tidus got in a bullet that scored just as the buzzer sounded, and the game went into overtime.

The teams both returned to their locker rooms for a much-needed break, while the fans all had a chance to stretch their legs and get a drink or something to eat while they waited for the overtime period to start. As they waited, Mercy looked around the stadium and saw that it was completely packed. Then she noticed off to her right that two people were approaching their group purposefully, and as the duo grew closer, she saw that the woman leading the pair was much better dressed than most of the crowd in the stadium, and that the man following her had a large sphere camera over his shoulder. She thought it was just another interviewer aiming for Yuna, since she had seen several interviews of Yuna on the sphere as she and Auron wandered over Luca the past couple of days, and was surprised when the interviewer stopped in front of her and practically shoved the microphone in her face.

"Lady Mercy?" the interviewer asked, although her tone made the question into a statement.  
Mercy felt Auron tense beside her, heard the sound of his long hair slithering across his back as his head swiveled to meet the 'threat' to his, or rather their, privacy that this intrusion represented. She automatically slid her hand down his arm, knowing that the sphere camera caught her movement, but aware that it was better to have that recorded than that her husband toss the camera, and possibly the cameraman and the interviewer, down into the next tier of seats. "I am Lady Mercy," she replied into the microphone. "And you are?" she asked in return.  
"Reporting for Luca News. You are Lady Yuna's newest guardian, is that correct?" the reporter continued.  
"Yes," Mercy answered. Under her breath, she continued to herself, "and her oldest."  
"I'm sorry milady; I didn't catch the rest of that. What did you just say?"  
"Nothing. Please ask your questions as quickly as possible. This break in the game won't go on much longer," Mercy reminded her.  
"Where did you meet up with Lady Yuna and her party?" the reporter continued the interview. She figured that she could edit out that one bit about the game when she got back to the newsroom.  
"We found each other in the ruins of Zanarkand," Mercy answered politely, but volunteered nothing.  
"I understand that you were 'acquainted' with some of Lady Yuna's guardians before her pilgrimage. Is that correct, Lady Mercy?" The reporter smiled a particularly smarmy little smile, making that acquaintance seem like it must be something nasty that Mercy needed to explain or even defend in some way. Mercy didn't care about it for herself, but knew that the reporter could twist it to reflect badly on Tidus, or even Yuna if she really wanted to. And right now, beside her, Auron was literally growling at the venom in interviewer's tone.

Auron chose to step in, and end the reporter's 'fishing expedition'. He was aware now, exactly what she must be trying determine with her questions. He knew that it would not be considered the truth, unless he said the words, and that this would not end until he did so. As soon as he drew breath to speak, the reporter moved the microphone up to his face, and her expression changed to that of a hunter who has captured her prey. "Mercy is my wife. You know this already, you merely wished to record my saying it." His words were clipped, his voice clearly angry. He took a deep breath, paused, and let it out, slowly, letting some of his anger go with it. Then he slid his arm around his wife's shoulders, and held her against his side, briefly, as he glanced down at her face, the surprised look in her eyes as she stared back at him. For a split-second, his expression was unguarded, even in front of the camera, as he continued; "We have been married for three years." Mercy smiled up at him. Then he turned back to the interviewer, and his face was hard and cold. "You have enough. Take that thing away from us. Now!" he ordered.

The reporter decided that she did have what she needed, and that she definitely had all she was going to get. She signaled to her cameraman, and they beat a hasty retreat.

The overtime commenced with an opening blitzoff a few minutes later. The Aurochs got control of the ball, but Wakka was unable to get it past the Luca goalkeeper when he had an open shot at the goal. The Goers didn't have any better luck when they recovered the ball and tried to get one past Keepa. The two teams played with grim determination, but both defenses were top-notch, and neither team was able to score, until Jassu made a desperate pass to Tidus with twenty seconds left to play, and he managed to bounce a Jecht shot off three defenders and past the Luca goalkeeper as time ran out. The Aurochs had finally won the game. The stadium erupted in cheers, as the Besaid team left the sphere pool in triumph.

At the inn that evening, Wakka and Tidus presented the trophy to the rest of the party. "Well, guys, here it is," Tidus said, laughing. "The runes say 'Jupiter', I think, but it's a little hard to read with all this stuff all over it."  
Looking the sigil over again, Mercy said, "It's a pity we're going to have to break this up," sarcasm clear in her voice. In her considered opinion, it was about the ugliest blitzball trophy she had ever seen, and she had seen quite a few of Tidus' over the years.  
"No, it will not," Auron replied, as he got a closer look at the thing. "It will be a public service." Rikku took one look at the deadpan expression on Auron's face, caught the twinkle in his eye, and burst into giggles.

The Aurochs felt like they deserved a night on the town, after their victory in the tournament that day, so they set out to enjoy themselves, while the summoner's party spent a quiet evening together at the inn, their first as a whole company since they had arrived in Luca and found out about the tournament. After a leisurely dinner they had repaired to Tidus' and Yuna's room to see if the crest and the sigil, now forcibly divested of some of its extraneous 'decorations', matched any of the weapons they had in their possessions. No one was completely surprised to discover that the two insignia they had obtained from blitzball related venues both belonged to Ohalland's ball. They decided to return to Macalania to merge the weapon as soon as they delivered the Aurochs back to Besaid the next day.

But the Aurochs weren't ready to leave in the morning. They had all partied a little too much the night before, and none of them were exactly eager to fall out of bed and trudge through the city with aching heads, just for a quick ride back to Besaid. They decided they'd rather stay in Luca, and go back to Besaid on their own. Or at least, that's what it sounded like Letty said, in between the moaning and groaning, just before he closed the door and went back to bed.

So Yuna and her companions strolled companionably through Luca as it came to life in the morning sunshine, ready to resume their journey. As they climbed the stairs leading towards the highroad where the airship would pick them up, Auron paused on the last platform, and stared over his shoulder at the city, spread out before him like a bright, multi-faceted jewel. He closed his eye for a moment, to imprint the picture in his mind, and Mercy came up by his side, and rested her hand on his arm. He looked down into her face, and nodded, and then they turned, and followed the others up the final stair.

All too soon, Wakka found himself approaching the great crystal in Macalania, deeply uncertain exactly what he should do. He wanted to pray, but he wasn't sure who to pray to, anymore, so he stood hesitantly, a few feet from the crystal, and heard Auron and Kimahri take up positions behind him, just as he had done when it had been Kimahri's turn. Then he took a deep breath, and looked at the ball in his hands. He had been up half the night, turning it around and around, thinking about this moment, trying to figure out where to put his hands so he wouldn't get cut up, just trying to figure out what to do. Carefully, he tucked the ball against his hip, and walked up to the crystal and knelt. That's what he had decided to do. It felt right to him. It seemed…respectful. Then he pulled the crest and the sigil from his pockets and picked the ball up between them and held the ball up to the crystal, and his entire world was ripped away.

When Wakka came back to himself, he felt like he had been gone a long time, and he felt like nothing would ever be the same again, that he would never see things the same way, not as long as he lived. He found himself blinking rapidly in an attempt to clear his vision, and he took the ball carefully in one hand so that he could use the other one to wipe his eyes, and found that his face was wet with tears. He scrubbed at his face with his hand; his back still turned from the others. Then he put his hand down and slowly levered himself upright, careful to be sure he was in complete control of himself before he turned around.

When Wakka turned, he found himself face-to-face with Auron, and the memory of what he had seen flashed painfully through his mind. _Lord Ohalland…summoned his Final Aeon…using a blitzball move like that shot of Tidus'. It bounced off the standing stones in the Calm Lands, across the Scar, and the ball returned him. Then his Aeon…it came out of him…first the spear…then the horn…then the rest of it…and Lord Ohalland just…fell down to the ground. Blood was everywhere. Not just blood…other stuff, too. It was…worse than awful. Lord Ohalland…his other guardian…caught him as he fell. Stayed with him while the Fayth fought Sin. Held him when he died. Watched Sin…take over the Fayth_. Wakka stared blankly at the older guardian. _That's what he saw. That's what he lived through. Lord Braska…and Jecht. When I first became a guardian, I thought he was a hero. I told Tidus that Sir Auron was 'the best guardian that ever was', and I meant it. I thought that meant he was more than human. Then, in Zanarkand, when his Lady came, I saw he was…just a man, not much different from me, and I thought that meant maybe he wasn't a hero after all. Then, when I found out he knew about the Final Aeon all along, and he hadn't told us, well, that was it. He lied to us. That meant he weren't no hero, at least not in my book. But I couldn't have done what he did. I couldn't have seen Yuna go through that, and still kept going, all to do this, to find a way to make it stop. He's more of a hero than I ever thought he was. So what if he's just human? It must have been even tougher that way_.

Auron looked into Wakka's eyes, and knew what his vision must have been. In the space of a few minutes, Wakka's face had been etched into harder lines, and his expression now contained a man's certain knowledge, even if it was that of pain and anguish, no longer a boy's hurt and confusion. The blitzer cleared his throat and finally choked out a few words in a hoarse whisper that only Auron could hear, "I saw Lord Ohalland summon his aeon."  
"I know," Auron replied in a low voice, making sure that their conversation did not carry beyond Kimahri's sensitive ears.  
"Don't worry, man, I won't say nothing to Yuna. I promise." With that, he held out his right forearm, and Auron reached out and gripped it, one warrior to another, oath made and accepted. Then the moment passed, and they all began moving down the branch toward the ground.

As soon as they reached the spot they seemed to always use for their 'story-telling', Wakka found himself the center of attention, as he knew he would be. He tried to gather his thoughts, to tell just as much as he needed to, and no more. He looked across at Tidus, and found the younger man's blue eyes gazing back at him. Tidus nodded once, sharply, and Wakka realized that his friend had faced exactly the same problem that he did now. He remembered how Tidus had told about his vision, and began. "Lord Ohalland had two guardians, just like Lord Braska did. But Lord Ohalland's guardians were his teammates. One was a Ronso named Zetak. Zetak was his fayth. And Rikku, you're not the first Al Bhed to be a guardian. Lord Ohalland's other guardian was an Al Bhed. His name was Kiynt. He even used a claw, just the way you do."  
"I wonder if his claw is one of the other 'celestial weapons'?" Rikku speculated into the air.  
"I dunno," Wakka answered. "I didn't even see him use it, I just saw it on him." He paused, thinking through the next part. "I saw Lord Ohalland summon the Final Aeon, with this ball. He used a fancy blitz shot like yours, brudda," Wakka said, smiling across the circle at his blond friend. "It bounced around the standing stones, and it even bounced across the Scar and back, before it came back to him. Then the Final Aeon appeared."  
Lulu started to cut him off. "Exactly what happened when…?"  
Wakka, sitting next to her, wrapped his hand around her wrist and squeezed hard enough to get her attention, then said, just a little sharply, "Lu, don't interrupt. I'm tellin' the story here." He stared into her eyes, and she stared back defiantly, until her eyes fell, and she gave in. She was very surprised at his sudden show of dominance.

He cleared his throat. "As I was saying," Wakka continued, "after he summoned the Final Aeon, Lord Ohalland and his other guardian, Kiynt, watched as Sin and Zetak fought. Lord Ohalland was dying after the summoning. Lord Ohalland…he saw Zetak beat Sin. Then he asked Kiynt to promise to take his weapon, this ball, back to his family in Luca, before he went back to the Al Bhed. Then he died. Lord Ohalland didn't see Sin take over Zetak, but Kiynt saw. Then he started heading for Luca. That was it."

Lulu studied Wakka's face. He looked tired and drained by what he had seen. Also, somehow, profoundly changed. His behavior earlier, when he had stared her down, had been very…intriguing. He had never tried to dominate her before, and she found that she quite liked it. She kept returning in her mind to the things that Mercy had said to her about Wakka, and she found them more and more interesting as time went on. As they all got up to walk back out of the woods, Lulu took up a place at Wakka's side, hoping the explore the changes that had been brought about by his experience, and see where they might lead.

Mercy and Auron were at the rear of the group as they hiked out of Macalania. She was distracted, her attention fixed on the couples ahead of them, Tidus and Yuna, furthest ahead, and Lulu and Wakka, nearer to them, but still out of earshot. Auron, sensing her inattention, finally asked, "What are you thinking?" knowing full well that it was the most dangerous question a husband could ask his wife.  
"I was thinking about Lulu and Wakka," she answered, which totally baffled him, so he replied with an interrogatory noise that he hoped she would interpret as a request for further information.  
She looked up at him then, and the expression on her face was so wistful that it caught at his heart. "When we go," she said sadly, "I would like to know that someone…someone we know…has a chance at lifelong happiness together. We know…" she choked, "we know it will not be…" she stopped completely, and swallowed the tears in her throat. Then looked up at him through wet lashes, and began again. "I want to know that someone will have a chance to have what we have had. And Lulu and Wakka are the only chance."  
He stared down at her, as he ripped his glove off his right hand, tucked it into his belt, and twined his fingers with hers. _To hell with the fiends_, he thought. "If Lulu and Wakka have half of what we have, they will be luckier than they deserve. The fayth know I have been much luckier than I ever deserved." He lifted her hand to his lips, and kissed her fingers, as she smiled wanly up into his face.

End Chapter Thirty-Six.


	37. Heart of the Night

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The title of this chapter is from a song originally performed by Poco.

* * *

Mercy lay awake in the dark, and stared out the window of their room in the travel agency on the Mi'ihen Highroad. _I should tell Rin that he really needs to something about this place, the next time I see him,_ she mused. _Not only is the room cold, even the blankets are threadbare. Still, it's not like he has any competition out here. No more inns until Djosé. Tomorrow night we'll probably be camping by the road, and this will seem like paradise in comparison_. Her mind reflected on the day just past. _The landscape is so barren…empty and lifeless, except for the travelers on the road…and the fiends. We found plenty of those…hopefully enough to make the arena keeper happy_. She shivered in the chill night air, and thought about getting up and finding Auron's coat to use as an extra blanket, but even as she began to steel herself to get out of the bed, his arms closed around her from behind and pulled her in tight, tucking her smaller frame against his larger, and very much warmer one. He didn't even wake up as he cuddled her; he did it automatically in response to her shivering beside him. As she drifted off to sleep, lulled by the heat of his body and soothed by the touch of his skin against hers, she smiled as she remembered the one advantage this room had over camping out with the rest of their party. _I'm definitely going to miss the privacy_. She reached back, and trailed a hand down over her husband's bare hip and thigh. _Definitely_. 

But they decided to go down the Oldroad before heading to Djosé, and by late afternoon they had hiked all the way down to the end of the road and were on their way back to the Highroad when they passed the plateau and the ruins in the rock wall for the second time. Mercy, unable to contain her curiosity on the return trip, asked, "Does anyone know what these are? Or rather, were? It's too small to have been a town. Was it an estate or something like that?"  
"No one knows," Lulu answered. "These ruins have been here since before the Highroad was built."  
"Why don't we take a look inside? Maybe we could camp here tonight, instead of out in the open?" Mercy looked at her companions, and saw Tidus' and Auron's heads both nod in agreement. The others appeared to be at least considering the possibility.  
Kimahri surprised her by speaking up in defense of her idea. "If building is safe, walls make better camp. Easier to keep watch."  
Rikku chimed in with, "It's cold at night. Maybe it'll be warmer in there. I say we go see if it's okay."  
"I agree," Yuna said, smiling. "Let's take a look. Maybe we'll find out something, too."  
As they worked out a plan to check the old ruin, Tidus muttered under his breath to Auron, "You know, she just wants to poke around and see what's there. Good luck pulling her away in the morning, old man."  
Auron's gaze flicked over to his wife, eagerly running ahead of the others to go 'poke around' as the younger man had so aptly described, and one corner of his mouth turned up in a half-smile as he shrugged his shoulders. "I will manage…somehow." He shook his head. "She thinks this is…fun." Tidus looked up at him, and laughed.

As she explored the old building, Mercy kept having the strange feeling that the place was…familiar…somehow. She felt as if she had been in this 'house' before, that she knew this place. She was certain that it had been a house, she was even sure that she knew what most of the rooms had been. The building seemed eerily comfortable to her in many ways, except that she kept expecting to turn the corner and find the rooms furnished, and they were all bare, or worse, filled with debris from animals, earlier campers, and the occasional collapsed wall or ceiling. But, in spite of the passage of the centuries, the structure still seemed to be sound, and looked to provide better shelter for the night than camping out-of-doors.

Kimahri choose a room in the front corner of the first floor as their 'campground' for the night. It still possessed four walls and a roof, and had a window they could use to escape, if the old ruin did choose this night of all nights to collapse, a possible but unlikely event. Mercy went searching for Auron, to let him know what had been decided, and found him on the second floor, in the center room, standing in front of a large window overlooking the road. The room felt warm and welcoming, bathed in the rosy glow of the sun setting behind the road, in spite of the bare, windswept walls and floor.

Auron heard her footsteps behind him and said, "I was watching the sunset," keeping her from asking what he was doing, just standing here, lost in thought, alone in this barren room. He wasn't completely sure of that himself. He definitely wasn't ready to answer any of his wife's probing questions on the subject.  
"There's something about this place, isn't there?" she asked, as she came to stand beside him. He nodded, still staring out the window, unable to define what that 'something' might be.

Mercy woke in the middle of the night, and knew instantly what was wrong. Auron wasn't there. She lay still, listening, but heard nothing except the sound of Kimahri's pacing in the adjacent rooms. Wherever her husband was, it wasn't close enough for her to hear him. She felt around on top of the blankets, and realized that he must have intended to be away for a while, because he had taken his coat with him. She sat up and reached for her tunic, and tied it on loosely over her sports bra, then she turned her legs out of the bedroll, pulled on her boots, and stood, picking up the longer of her two swords as she did so. As quietly as she could, she stepped around her sleeping companions and made her way to where Kimahri was keeping guard duty for this watch of the night. When her eyes met the Ronso's, they didn't even need to speak, he guessed instantly what she wanted to know. He pointed to the mostly intact stairway barely visible in the center of what she had mentally reconstructed as the main hall of the dwelling. She nodded in both thanks and acknowledgement, and moved carefully to the stairs, and up to the second floor. She didn't need any further guidance; she already knew where Auron must be.

She found him exactly where she had expected to, in the central room with the picture window. She saw him silhouetted against the night sky, leaning over, with his hands on the old windowsill. She stood in the doorway and called his name softly, "Auron…" and her voice seemed to bring him out of a trance, because he shook his head sharply, as if to clear it, then he straightened and held out his hand for her, and when she took his hand, he grabbed hers and held on, almost too tightly, as he drew her around until she was standing in front of him, her back against his chest, and he wrapped both his arms around her and held her close.

She felt, and heard, his heart racing near her ear. _I really startled him_, she realized. _He was so lost he didn't hear me. That's so unlike him. What was he thinking about?_ But she remained silent, waiting for him to tell her what was on his mind. His words surprised her, because his thoughts echoed her own earlier musings.  
"This place," he began, then he paused, not certain how to proceed. _To hell with it. She is the one person who will not think I am mad. At least_, he amended to himself, _not too mad_. "This place feels familiar to me. It is as if I have been here before," he paused again, momentarily unable to explain further.  
"Have you…been here…before?" she asked quietly. "Or, around here?"  
"The Oldroad is used for training exercises," he stated. "I have passed by here a few times, but not often. The road leads nowhere. And I have never been inside this place before today. There was no reason. It would have been…"  
"A waste of time," she finished for him, her head tilted back against his chest so that he could see that she was smiling fondly at him. "I know."  
He smiled back, and pressed his lips against her forehead. "Yes." She turned her face back to the window. There was a full moon shining over the valley, and she thought the view was quite lovely in the moonlight. Auron continued, "But I feel as if I know the purpose of each of these rooms, and I cannot explain how I can be so certain. This was the lord's bedchamber, and the two smaller rooms down the hall were the children's bedrooms. I know, but I do not know how I know. The large room next to this, I think it was used for a variety of purposes…"  
"The room next to this was a solarium," she finished for him. "The family used it for meals when they were not entertaining, and for quiet evenings together."  
"You feel it too, then?" he asked.  
She didn't answer his question, but went on with her catalog of the rooms on this floor. "The room across from the," she choked suddenly, then coughed and continued, "children's bedrooms was the nursery. It was used as a schoolroom when they got to be older." She stopped again, then finally went said, "Yes, I feel it, too."

He heard the tremor in her voice, and guessed that she was crying. He turned her around, and she slid her arms around his waist and pressed her face against his shirt. Her hands balled into fists, he felt her pull at his shirt, as she willed herself to stop the tears. He folded himself around her; his cheek on the top of her head, holding her, wishing they could talk about this, but he knew from past attempts that it wouldn't do any good. _We cannot have children, whether either or both of us wish otherwise. We are both unsent…we cannot create life_. Resignedly, he reminded himself, as he had countless times before, that discussing the issue would not help, it would only cause pain.  
She rubbed her face against Auron's shirt, drying her eyes, wishing that she could learn to stop crying about something that she had no power to change. _All I do is hurt myself, and him. And it changes nothing_.

He wanted desperately to take her mind off of the children's bedrooms down the hall, so he decided to tell her some of the other things that he had 'seen' as he had stood in this strangely familiar and yet unfamiliar room. "I saw you here," he began slowly. "She was…you and yet not you." She looked up at that, a dangerous glitter in her eyes. A warning voice sounded in his mind, _go carefully, or you'll be sleeping alone for a long time…a long, long time_. "She was a warrior, as you are, but there was no music room here. She looked…very much like you," he stopped, as he suddenly realized that, whoever the woman was, she was the model that Mercy had been drawn from…literally. The fayth had used the people of Spira as models for the people in the dream Zanarkand, he had seen too many familiar faces not to know that, but he had never seen anyone who resembled those closest to him, a fact for which he had been most grateful. But the woman who had lived in this house…she had been the original from which his Mercy had been drawn. He smiled down at his wife, to cover for the pause in his speech, and continued, "except that she had long hair, down to here," with that, he traced a line across her butt with his hand, "all done up in elaborate braids that started at the top of her head and ran all the way down her back." His fingers followed his words, and traced the same path from the crown of her head down her spine.

She shivered with sensual awareness at his touch, and laughed softly. "You're just saying that you wish I had long hair," she teased, more than willing to let him distract her.  
"Well, yes, of course I do," he answered easily. "But I love you as you are." Then he ran his fingers through the short, silky strands of her hair, and captured her face between his hands, and kissed her.

It was a light kiss, gentle and loving, but not intending to go any further. But she wanted to go further. She wanted to forget the hurt they had caused each other, and to lose the constant eerie pressure of the oddly familiar past of this place by losing herself, by letting them lose themselves, in their own familiar present. She slipped her hand behind his neck, and pulled him back for another kiss, more teasing; her lips open under his, her tongue flicking against his lower lip seductively.

He had intended to be sensible, but as he looked down at her, from the expression in her luminous eyes, her softly parted lips, and the way she had pressed her body flush against his, from her breasts to her thighs, he was aware that his wife wasn't particularly interested in being sensible. And, he was willing to go along with her. Parts of him were more than willing, a fact which was becoming more obvious by the second. He judged that they had privacy enough, even if the room was lacking in comfort. If she did not mind, he was not going to argue with her. Instead, his hand swept down her back in a long caress, as he lowered his mouth to hers. His tongue swept inside her parted lips, and hers was there to meet his, as they began to taste each other. She started pulling at his shirt, wanting, as she always did, to reach inside and touch his skin underneath, just as he found the tie on her tunic and drew it open. The movements were familiar, and yet they were still new, each time, and always had the power to set him on fire for her. But as he opened himself up to the sensations, and let loose of the restraints that usually leashed his mind as well as his body, he was assailed by a kaleidoscope of images of the woman who had been Mercy in the past, who had been in this place, long ago. He knew he was seeing through another man's eyes, but a man who felt the same as he did, the same love, the same desire, and the same possessiveness as well. Whoever he was, whoever she was, they had been husband and wife in that past as well. But in that past…he saw her in ways he could not have seen in this life, and the pictures shook him to his soul. It was all in this same room, even though the room had been furnished then. He saw her…thousands and thousands of different ways, but all her. The pictures flashed by so quickly, it seemed as though within a single heartbeat. In some, she seemed impossibly young, years before he even could have known her in his own life, when she was in her late teens, and he was still a child, but in that other life, they had already been married. In many, she was as she had been during the time he had known her, except for the beautiful long hair, where sometimes he saw the silver strands sparkling among the sable brown. He saw her in full armor, dressed in flowing robes, completely nude, and everything in between. But the last picture he saw before the vision faded was something he knew he could never see in this life, and had tried never to imagine. She stood by the bed, completely naked, and visibly and glowingly pregnant with his child. It was simply the most erotic image he had ever seen in his life.

He blinked, and his vision returned to the present, and it changed…nothing. Mercy was all that he saw, all that he could see; he felt the same, heart and body, infinite love and intense desire. She was the most alluring, seductive woman he had ever known. Need crackled through him, as raw and uncontrolled as the lightning on the Thunder Plains. He stared down at her face for a moment, his eye half-lidded, licking his lips as his gaze shifted from her eyes, to her mouth, and down to her breasts. She felt her breasts swell and her nipples pucker as he watched avidly. Then he dragged his focus back up to her lips, as he molded his hands over the rounded curves of her derriere and lifted her and ground her hips against him as he fastened his mouth on hers in a devouring kiss. She clung to him, one hand speared through his hair, the other clawing at his shoulders as she stood on her toes, desperately trying to press her body closer to his.

His lips left hers to trail down her neck, and along her shoulder, in a series of licking, nibbling kisses that set fire to her already overheated skin. The sound of their harsh, rapid breathing filled the room, along with other sounds, murmurs, whimpers, moans, and the slide of hands over cloth, and flesh. She dropped her arms from around his neck to lower, around his waist, and her hands burrowed under his shirt. She couldn't lift it high enough on his chest to get it out of her way, so she just started to make tiny bites across his pectoral muscles, until she made her way to the flat disc that marked one of his nipples. That, she began to lave with her tongue, until his shirt was damp and he was ready to cry out from the sensation. But by then, he had shifted his hands to cradle her breasts, and was tormenting her by rubbing the pad of his thumbs back and forth over the hard peaks. She lifted her face to his, slid her hand around the back of his neck, and pulled his head down for a scalding kiss. He reached for the drawstring on her pants, and pulled it open. They fell to her hips. Impatiently, he brushed at them with his hands, and the pants fell to her boot-tops.

His hands were everywhere, caressing her skin, inflaming everywhere they touched. And she found that there was something…wanton…about being almost completely naked while Auron was still mostly clothed that seemed to be making her even more crazed than normal, which was seriously saying something. Or maybe it was simply that he was just about out of control, and she always loved it when he was like that. But she wanted, no, needed, to get him out of at least some of his clothes…now. She kissed him again, her tongue tasting his lips, teasing and then probing. As he took control of the kiss, she dug the nails of one hand into his backside, while her other hand was caressing him through the fabric of his pants. He began to thrust against her hand, and then stopped himself. She broke off kissing him and began to unfasten his pants. He caught both her hands in one of his.

"This used to be a bedroom," he said thickly, taking a harsh breath between each word.  
"No bed here now. We'll just have to make do," she answered, her eyes over-bright. "Soon."  
His eye darted around the room. He was about half a breath away from just taking her against a wall, but the walls were too rough, her back would be torn to ribbons, even if she kept her shirt on. He saw his coat draped over the open windowsill, snatched it up, took a few steps towards the side of the room out of the direct path from the door to the window, and half laid, half threw it on the floor. He kicked at the edges to spread it out a bit more, then glanced over at his wife, one brow raised in a question. When he looked at her, he realized that the answer had better be 'yes', whatever he had to do to convince her. She was more undressed than dressed, and he knew it was all his doing. She looked wild, passionate, incredibly sexy…and his. Soon, he hoped.

She smiled, a very female, almost feline smile, and began to slink towards him. He sat down on his coat with his back to the wall, and began to take off his boots. He knew she was going to make him take them off sooner or later, he decided that he might as well do it sooner. She lowered herself to the red wool cloth, and faced him. He patted his thigh in a familiar gesture, telling her without words that he wanted to help her with her boots. She leaned back on her hands and laid her booted foot over his leg. He pulled her boot off easily, along with one leg of her pants. He grinned at her wolfishly, then motioned for her to let him get her other foot. She smiled back, and presented him with her other boot. Soon her boots, and her pants, lay discarded on the stone floor.

He let his back rest against the wall, and stared at her. Her eyes were slightly glazed, her lips were swollen with his kisses, her open shirt floated down her back while her full breasts, with their dark aureoles and ripe, distended nipples, were presented to him, as if for him to feast upon, because somewhere along the way he had shoved her bra out of the way, and it was now below her breasts instead of covering them. He had even pushed her bikini underwear partway down her hips, and exposing the upper reaches of the dark nest of curls he ached to touch. He felt like he was ready to explode, and knew that once he was inside her, he wouldn't be able to last long, he didn't think he would have much control over the matter by then. He wanted to take care of her, now, while he still had some measure of self-mastery.

He settled his shoulders into the wall, and spread his legs apart, then patted the ground directly in front of him. "Come here," he rasped.  
She moved to sit on her heels in front of him, and tilted her head to one side quizzically. Then she leaned forward and fastened her mouth on his. He felt like he was drowning in desire, both hers and his own. He was close to letting himself slide down the wall, and pulling her down with him, when she lifted her lips and began to lick kisses down his jaw. Then she shifted one of her hands along the ground, to get a little better balance, and unfortunately found a rock under the cloth, and simply pressed her face into his shoulder as she winced in momentary pain. The lapse served to remind him of their circumstances, that if they weren't careful one or both of them could get hurt more than could be ignored in the heat of the moment.

He swallowed thickly, and got his voice back again. "I meant, sit here," he tried again, as he dropped his hands to her hips, to make sure this time that she did what he had in mind. He settled her down between his legs, with her butt snuggled tightly against his groin. He realized instantly that it was going to be sheer torture. His wife tended to wiggle. He peeled the shirt off her back, and set it aside, then removed her bra and pulled her back against his chest.

"Auron," she began, "what are you doing?" Her voice was a throaty purr.  
"That should be obvious," he murmured against her ear, as his left hand closed around her breast, and his right hand skimmed over her belly and down inside her panties and between her legs. Her head lolled against his shoulder as he rolled her nipple between his fingers, and his right thumb rubbed over the hard little knot of nerve endings that was already screaming for his touch. She writhed against him, seeking more intimate contact. He groaned in her ear, desperate to keep from simply flipping them both over to the hard floor.

She was almost there, almost ready to fly. She felt it in every part of her body, every cell crying for her to just let go and jump. She just needed one more thing. The rhythm of his fingers against her was pulsing faster and faster, and she just needed to touch him back, in order to let go. Almost blind, she grabbed for his other hand, fumbled to lace her fingers with his, and then shuddered and shook and writhed as she fell into the light, crying his name.

Her grip on his hand felt like it ground his bones together. He thought that the sharp pain was the only thing that kept him from following her. Then she slumped in his arms as she fell back to reality, and unlocked the tight clasp she had on his hand. He flexed his fingers in relief, before he began to gently stroke and caress her, keeping her close in the circle of his arms, helping her float down instead of crash. She half-turned on her side to cuddle against him, while he continued to rub soothingly on her back.

Her eyes flickered open, and she glanced up, and mischievous look on her face. "Now it's your turn," she breathed. Then she caught the hem of his shirt and shoved it high on his chest, and rested her cheek on his bared stomach. She licked his skin, tasting the salt of his sweat, and purring like a cat as she rubbed her face against him. She traced the rigid shaft of his erection through his pants, cupping her hand over the sensitive flesh. He sucked in his breath. She smiled lazily as she began to unfasten his trousers, every movement of her fingers a delightful torment to him, especially when her tongue dipped into his belly button, and then she blew warm breaths over his now damp skin. He lifted his hips so she could draw the restraining fabric away, then she licked him, from base to tip. His head fell back against the wall with an audible thump, but he felt no pain, as she took the head into her mouth and swirled her tongue around it. Pleasure raced through his entire body, as she sucked on him, driving him toward blissful oblivion. He rested one of his hands on the back of her head; the other clenched a fold of his coat in his fist. As the intense pressure built, he strained to maintain control of two raging demons, not to use his hand to push her head down, to force himself deeper into the hot, wet cave of her mouth, and not to let go, not to explode as she sucked him, because as glorious as it was, he wanted more.

He barely managed to choke out the word, "Stop," and nearly went mad when she did. Especially since she did not actually move away from her ministrations, she simply ceased her motions, and opened her eyes wide in question, while still keeping her lips sealed around him. The sight alone nearly sent him over the edge. It actually took him several pounding heartbeats to form the next few words, articulate speech almost beyond his power. "Mercy," he growled, not sure if he was saying her name or begging, "I want you to ride me."

Her eyes glittered, as she drew her lips up, slowly, tauntingly, then she kissed the tip of his shaft, and he very nearly did beg for her not to stop, after all. But he wanted to be inside her when he found his release. He sat up and pulled off his shirt, as she knelt and drew his pants the rest of the way off his legs. Then he slid down, away from the wall, so he could lie flat on his back on the illusion of a bed created by his coat on the bare floor.

She straddled him, her hands on the cloth above his shoulders, his hands on her waist. She leaned over him, and touched her lips to his, tilted her hips, and he slid inside her. Her eyes dropped shut for a second, as she tried to lock the feeling inside. This first instant, always felt so…intensely perfect. She wished they could just stay like this, forever.

Every time was like the first time, the last time, and the best time, all rolled into one. He wanted to make this last, but then, he always did. It could never last long enough. Forever wouldn't be long enough. He wanted to hold her, close and tight in his arms, just like she was holding him inside her body. He pulled himself up into a sitting position, bringing her with him. Her legs clasped his waist loosely, and they sat face to face, intimately joined. This position pushed him deep and high inside her; the hot, wet vice of her sex gripped him tight. Her hands stroked his back as they embraced; he held her close and caressed her breasts. They rocked together, back and forth, and the movement slowly built the tension between them to a fever pitch, and she started to moan and whimper against his neck. He reached down, rubbed his thumb where she needed him to, and the waves crashed over her, and through her, and her senses drowned in pleasure. It was everything he had been waiting for. He let himself go, and drowned with her.

Stunned and senseless, for a brief while the held each other upright, wrapped tightly in each other's arms. Too spent to get dressed and return to camp, they eventually managed to untangle themselves and lay down together, Auron pushing Mercy's legs back around and then pulling her down on top of him, protecting her from whatever sticks and rocks might lie under his coat by exposing his own back to the risk of being cut or bruised. As they began to doze, he grabbed the nearest piece of clothing and draped it over his wife's back, hoping that whatever he had found, her shirt, from the feel of it, would serve to keep her warm while they slept. Then he dropped off to sleep.

Mercy woke sometime later, later enough that the room was considerably darker. She judged that the moon had either set, or had gone behind the hill the house was a part of. But to her sleep-filled eyes the room was very different than it had been earlier, and it wasn't just the lack of light. In the shadows, she saw the ghost of the room as it had been, once upon a time. Where earlier in the day, she had thought that she kept seeing the rooms furnished, as if out of the corner of her eye, now, in the night-shadows, she truly saw the room as it had once been. She could see where each piece of furniture, each rug, each decoration had sat. And when Auron had tossed his coat so casually on the floor, he had thrown it on the spot where the bed had been.

She closed her eyes for a second, almost afraid to act on her own thoughts. In sleep, she had fallen from her original position on her husband's chest to one of their normal sleeping positions, curled against his side, her head on his shoulder, her arm across his torso, her legs tangled with his. She could feel him next to her, even with her eyes firmly closed, and it felt good, and right, and normal. But when she opened her eyes, and looked at the two of them lying entwined on the bed, her vision doubled. She couldn't see her own 'other' face, for which she heartily thanked whatever beings might be responsible for this mess, but she saw the long hair that trailed over her counterpart's shoulder, and across the male body next to hers. And if she…felt…instead of thought, Mercy realized that this other woman felt the same about this man next to her, as she felt about Auron. This was her husband, and she did love him very much. It was as if there were a kind of…echo…from the past. Mercy forced herself to stare at the man. It was strange, because she could see both men. Auron's face and form were clear, and the other man's ghostly image was superimposed over his. Physically they were the same type, the same height and build, almost an exact match. The only difference was in the scars; both men were battle-scarred warriors, but the battles they had fought had left their marks in slightly different places. And her counterpart definitely had excellent taste in men. Mercy wanted to laugh. She could tell exactly how excellent, since both men were completely naked.

The men's faces were nowhere near exactly alike, but they were similar. If the two men stood side-by-side, someone would think they were close kin, brothers perhaps, as they seemed to be almost the same age. The other man, his hair was black, too. It was long, but not as long as Auron's, it didn't look like it was quite long enough to tie back the way Auron did. But their faces had so much in common. They had the same strong jaw, the same nose, the same full lips. If this was Spira's past she was seeing, then she wouldn't have been surprised to discover that this man was her husband's ancestor, however many generations back. Something else about the man's face haunted her. The specter was familiar, as though she had seen him, or someone very like him, in her own life, but certainly not in this context.

She lifted her hand to touch Auron's cheek, not entirely certain whether she would touch the present, or the past. But when her fingers scratched against the stubble of his beard, the images faded, and only the bare room remained. He woke up, took her hand in his, and kissed her fingers. "We should probably get dressed and go back downstairs for what's left of the night," she reminded him.

"I know," he replied. "We should have brought our supplies up here for the night." He tried to roll onto his side, and caught a stone under his shoulder. He shifted slightly and tried the movement again. Once he was facing her, he drew her carefully into his arms. She cuddled close, and started to drift back to sleep, lulled by his warmth. He found himself dozing again, and almost fell back to sleep. He kissed her awake again. "We should go," he said reluctantly.  
"Yes, before they find us like this in the morning," she reminded him. He sat up instantly and began searching for his clothes.

They dressed quickly, and retrieved their swords from where they had been resting against the wall by the window. Then they carefully negotiated the stairs down to the main level in the dark. On the stair landing, when they both moved to one side to avoid a table that was no longer there, but that both of them could definitely see, Mercy asked her husband in confusion, "What is it we see? Why us? I don't think this affects the others."  
"I think we see…the past," he answered carefully. "But I do not know why. And I agree, it does not seem to affect the others." He paused. "Are you afraid?"  
Instead of answering his question, she stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Just before I woke you," she began hesitantly, into the darkness, "I saw a man, much like you, just the way you said you saw a woman who looked like me. Except…he didn't look exactly like you. But he did look like he could have been your brother, or maybe your cousin, there was a kind of family resemblance, but he definitely wasn't you. Maybe this place belonged to one of your ancestors. Maybe that's your connection to this place, why you see these things. But I have no ties to Spira, except through you. So why me?"  
He rocked back on his heels, not sure how to react to the concept that the original model for his wife might have been his own many times great-grandmother. He concluded that some ideas were best not thought of too carefully.

He moved his sword from his right hand to his left, and curled her fingers into his. "These visions must have a purpose. I hope it will become clear, in time." He squeezed her hand. "But we are both tired. Further speculation will not alter what we have seen. Let's return to the others, before someone begins to search for us, and injures themselves in the dark."  
She leaned her head against his arm. "You're right. I'm beat. Let's go," she answered wearily.

They made their way back through the empty house to the room where the rest of the party had camped. They both nodded as they passed Wakka, who was now on guard, as they crept quietly back towards their bedroll. Wakka just shook his head after they were behind him, embarrassed that he had just seen the older guardians both looking as if they had been rolling around on the dirt floor somewhere in their clothes, or, he realized, more likely without them. Mercy and Auron were too tired to care. They removed their boots with as little noise as possible, and then slipped into bed for the remainder of the night, dropping almost instantly into sleep in their mussed clothes, falling easily back into the same position they had taken on the floor upstairs.

In the morning, the party made their way up the Oldroad back to the Highroad, and through the passageway that marked the entrance to Mushroom Rock Road. The map showed that two of the celestial weapons were located on dead-end paths that branched off from the main track of the road. When they turned off the road to begin winding their way along the first trail, Mercy noticed that every one of her companions became instantly subdued, except for Rikku. It was plain to her that something terrible had happened in this place, but she could not recall what it might have been, and they were all walking too close together for her to ask Auron. It was equally clear to her that whatever the event had been, no one wanted to talk about it.

As they traversed the canyons of fantastically shaped rocks, Mercy saw that the trail skirted around and across the canyon floor, but that there didn't seem to be any paths that led to the bottom. _It doesn't look that far_, she decided. _We have all the gear we need, if we have to climb down. I bet we do. This weapon was a 'seek' notation on the map. It's hard to believe that it was just lying around, when they were here before, whatever else happened, and no one even remembers it_.

But as they walked, they encountered fiends, as they did wherever they traveled. But this was different. Yuna's attitude was strange; the summoner seemed filled with grim determination, a marked difference from her usual calm demeanor. Mercy thought that the young woman acted as if she felt personally responsible for the existence of each and every fiend they encountered along the way. _Why should Yuna feel guilty_, Mercy asked herself. _She can't believe this is somehow her fault, can she?_

When the party reached the point on the path that corresponded to the map, it was obvious to everyone that the weapon they sought must be on the level below. "Guess we'll have to climb down," Mercy said. "I think the best places to climb were at the south end of the canyon."  
"We should go back," Auron continued.  
"I wish to go on," Yuna interjected. "I want to return to the summit."  
"But why, Yuna?" Tidus questioned. "I'm sure there's nothing there."  
"I need to go back," the summoner cried. "I want to perform another sending."  
"Yuna," Auron began quietly, "you know that it will do no good. You sent the dead after the battle. The fiends that remain…cannot be reached by any sending."  
"But Sir Auron, I must try," she pleaded. "Perhaps there are some who can still be reached. I am stronger now." She paused, then let her gaze sweep over the entire party. "I will go to the summit, and perform another sending," Yuna stated with finality.  
"As you wish," Auron replied, acquiescing to his summoner's wishes.

A water-powered lifting rock deposited them on a higher-level plateau, then they marched over to an elevator machina. Mercy let the bits and pieces jumble around in her brain, and the answer finally came to the surface. _This was the site of Operation Mi'ihen. No wonder everyone is in such a black mood_.

But in spite of the terrible memories attached to this place, Auron glanced down at his wife pacing beside him, and could not help but contrast his current emotional state with the one he had been in on the last occasion he had walked this trail, just a few short months ago. Then, he had been even more downcast then Yuna was now, grimly marking the days until he could lay down his burdens, and rest on the Farplane. _Now…now my life is sweet again_, he mused. _In spite of what I told her, I wish that we could remain. I believe that we will be together on the Farplane, but I am more than content with this_, he let his hand rest against the small of her back for a moment, _physical existence. I do not know what awaits us after we are sent_.

As Auron rode the machina to the summit, he listened to the groaning and clanking noises it made with concern. He had learned little about machina during his ten years in Zanarkand, but he did understand that machines that emitted noises of the type that this one was making generally did not continue their function for long without extensive repair. Even at the top, the sky was already dusky with twilight, and the full moon was visible, high in the evening sky. He hoped that the machina would last long enough to take them back down the mountain, as climbing down in the dark would be unwise, and he was certain that none of them would wish to camp among the 'ghosts', even if those existed only in their memories.

They walked down the same path that they had trod months ago, on their way to the command center for the doomed 'Operation'. It was clear that the Al Bhed had returned in the interim, and had reclaimed or salvaged the weapons they had donated to the lost cause. All that remained of the cannons along the cliffside were worn tracks in the earth. The party reached the site of the former command center, and found that it had also been stripped bare. No evidence remained that a pavilion had ever stood there, or that two maesters of Yevon had ever sanctioned a heretical nightmare on this spot. Just to satisfy his own morbid curiosity, Auron studied the ground, and found that even the post-holes had been filled in. Kinoc had been extremely thorough in covering his tracks, Auron recognized, surprised by the sharp pain that hit him at the reminder of the only non-hostile encounter he had managed to have with his former friend.

Yuna walked to the edge of the cliff to begin the sending. Auron pulled Mercy back, far enough away that he believed that they would not be too deeply affected by the call to the Farplane. But Yuna put every ounce of power that she had into her dance. And she had grown very strong during her pilgrimage. He felt the sending draw him, a siren song calling him to lay down his burdens, to let himself go to the Farplane, to find rest, and peace. But he had practice in resisting the call, and with an effort of will, he held his spirit to his body.

But Mercy had never seen a sending, not even while she was alive, and had never felt it as an unsent. At first, she watched in fascination as Yuna began her complicated and graceful ballet. But then, for the first time, she began to truly understand what it meant to be unsent. She felt as if she were being punched and kicked, over and over, and as if her life, her soul, was being sucked out of her a fraction at a time, and she was in tearing agony. It felt as if she were dying a second time, except that this time, it went on and on, seemingly endless torment as she fought to hold herself together. She doubled over in tortured anguish.

Auron felt her clutch at his arm, then her hand slid away, and as he looked down he saw her crumple to the ground, and saw the pyreflies beginning to pull away from her form. In a blind panic, he scooped her up in his arms and ran, bearing her swiftly down the path, as he murmured to her, "Hold on!" He continued to whisper, pleading, "I love you. My lady, I beg you, please hold on." All the while his mind screamed, _No…Not now…Not yet!…_in an attempt to bargain with the fayth, or any other higher power that might be listening, as he hastened them away from Yuna's sending. He knew it was foolish, and he did not care. He was fully aware that he would make a deal with Yu Yevon himself if he thought for a moment that it would do any good._ I swear, we will go after the last battle. I was wrong to wish for more. But I can't lose her now! Don't make me lose her now!_

End Chapter Thirty-Seven


	38. In Too Deep

Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The title of this chapter is from a song originally performed by Genesis.

* * *

As Auron pelted down the path away from the sending that Yuna was performing at the cliff's edge, he tried to take comfort from the continued slight weight of his wife's body in his arms, but was unable to find much reassurance, her form was too limp, in spite of the bumping he knew she must be enduring. He refused to look down at her, for fear of what he might see, and continued to run. 

But as his steps turned down the road where the cannons had once stood, he felt something tug lightly at his collar, and he risked a downward glance. Mercy's eyes were still closed, but he could see them move behind the shut lids, as if in normal sleep. Her fingers were attempting to grasp at the edges of his coat, causing the pull at his collar that he had noticed a moment before. His steps slowed to a shambling walk, as relief weakened his knees. His gaze swept over her repeatedly, searching for pockets of swirling pyreflies, or missing body parts, letting himself breathe again when he found neither. He angled off the road, away from the edge, toward the inside rock wall. When he reached it, he turned and planted his back firmly against the stone. Then her lashes fluttered open, and her eyes focused on his, and the air went out of his lungs and the starch out of his knees, and he slid down the wall, still cradling her in his arms.

"Auron," she whispered, still somewhat dazed, "what happened?"  
He stroked his hand down the side of her face. His fingers shook, and he pressed them more firmly against her skin to stop the tremors. "Yuna's sending," he answered gravely. "You were nearly caught in it."  
A confused expression crossed her face. "You always made it seem like the sending would be a good thing. Auron, it was agony! It felt like dying all over again." He took a breath, as though he was going to interrupt, and she placed her fingers over his lips to stop him. "Let me finish. It was worse than that. The first time, it was a quick painful flash, but this was endless, slow torture." She was angry, she felt like Auron had deceived her about the whole sending business. The entire Farplane and sending thing always made her a little crazy, but this was too much for her to handle, and she was taking her feelings out on the nearest available target, her husband.

Auron was contrite. He did feel some guilt, but not in regards to this part of the matter. But first, he needed to defuse some of his wife's anger and hurt. "My lady, the sending is only painful if one resists, as we did."  
"Then you…" she began, finally reaching up to touch his cheek.  
"Yes. But I have had more…practice at resisting Yuna's sendings. She almost sent me in Guadosalam, outside the Farplane," he admitted ruefully.  
She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her thoughts and emotions. "I'm sorry," Mercy began. "I shouldn't have snapped at you." She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder in apology.  
"But I am at fault," Auron admitted, sounding apologetic. "I misjudged the strength of Yuna's sending. We should not have been standing so close."  
"Enough," his wife broke in, in a passable imitation of his own sharp tone. Then she spoiled the effect by laughing softly. "There is more than enough blame to go around, love. Let's just quit shoveling it on ourselves, okay?"  
He didn't answer in words, not at first, he just gathered her close in his arms and held her tight. Then he whispered in her ear as he rocked her gently, "I love you, my lady."  
Her lips against his ear as she sat in his lap, she whispered back, "I love you, too," and pressed her face into the hard, muscled solidity of his shoulder.

As he held her, he faced the truth behind his precipitous actions at the cliffside. _I acted without thought, in order to save her from going to the Farplane now, instead of a few weeks or months from now. No, I acted in order to save myself from being forced to continue without her for a few more weeks or a few more months. And if I had not managed to save her, what then? Would I have followed her?_ His thoughts hesitated for an instant's reflection, but only for an instant._ Yes. I would have acted equally without thought, and walked into Yuna's sending. Just as I went to 'avenge' myself on Yunalesca, all those years ago. I have not changed. If someone, Kimahri most probably, had stopped me, I would have continued on, now as I did then, existing through my days until I reached the end. But my instinct would have been to have gone with her, if I could not save her._ He cuddled her against his chest, stroked his hands down her back and arm, and felt her response, her arms tightening around his neck, her hands in his hair, her butt wiggling in his lap, against his groin. He felt the sudden, intense desire to make love with her, right there, right then, to prove to himself that she was truly all right, and truly still with him, to celebrate that they had cheated the absolute finality of death one more time.

She felt the evidence of his growing desire, and lifted her head to look into his face, and read even more into his expression, sleepy-seeming eye drifting from her lips to her breasts, parted lips taking rapid breaths, hands stroking down her back and over her buttocks and hips. She licked her suddenly dry lips and heard him groan softly. He closed his eye and pulled her head down against his shoulder, trying to block temptation from his sight. He knew that if they started now, in the current circumstances, stopping quickly would be between difficult and impossible. Having the others find them thus occupied would certainly either provide its own explanation for their departure from Yuna's sending, or at least distract them from it, but would also afford more embarrassment than he was willing to endure, unless there were no other options available.

Husky-voiced, he breathed in her ear, "We should camp away from the others tonight," he nibbled at her shoulder, "if possible," he tacked on, remembering duty, somewhat belatedly.  
"Mm-mm," she hummed back affirmatively, pressing her lips against his neck.  
He leaned his head back against the rock wall, and fought for control, or calm, and tried to think about raging blizzards, and what they should say to their companions when they came hurrying down the path in the not too distant future. He forced himself to keep his hands still on his wife's back, just to hold her and be grateful that she was still with him, and to try to let everything else wait until a more appropriate time.

"Auron, what's the problem?" Mercy's voice interrupted his empty thoughts.  
"Our departure from the sending was somewhat…precipitous. We will need to make some explanation," he stated.  
"I get it." She laughed, as if at a joke. He looked puzzled. "We need to tell a story," she explained with a smile.  
"Yes. And I do not have a story for this occasion," he admitted. "I do not believe the truth would be…advisable…under the circumstances."  
"Probably not," his wife agreed. "Let me think a minute."  
"Think quickly," he urged. "I do not believe we have much time left."  
"I know, we'll do something simple." She scrambled off his lap and sat on the ground with her back to the wall. "Take off one of my boots and pretend to examine my ankle when the others get here. You can even be a little unhappy about it if you want."  
"You will pretend to have injured your foot?" he inquired with some sarcasm.  
"No, I will pretend that you thought I injured my foot, that way there doesn't actually have to be evidence of any injury," she answered brightly. He looked more than unhappy, he seemed somewhere between stunned at her audacity, and angry at the part he would have to play in her little charade. She took one look at the expression on his face and continued, "You'd better let me do most of the talking."

"You do this sort of thing often?" he grumbled, as he slid off her right boot and sat down with her foot over his thigh.  
"Only to get out of really awful meetings," she responded cheekily, "but I usually faked a headache for that. The ankle trick was for boring school trips." She grinned at him, but his sullen expression did not lift. "Auron, lighten up. I think this is our best shot."  
He was unable to suppress his answering grin. "Did it work? Were you able to escape from the 'boring school trips', as you called them?"  
"Until my parents got wise to me, yeah. This should work once." She paused, listening. "I think they're coming. Try to follow my lead, will you? I think I know how to play this."  
"As you wish," he replied, staring down at her foot as he wiped the grin off his face.

The rest of the summoner's party spotted them as soon as they turned down the path, and Yuna hurried over to them, trailing her remaining guardians behind her. "Sir Auron, what happened? Mercy, are you injured?" the summoner asked breathlessly.  
"It's all my fault," Mercy answered. "I must have been moving my feet in time with your dance, and I guess I put my foot down on a rock or something, because I started to fall. It must have looked more serious than it was, because Auron caught me before I could recover myself…"  
"Or hit the ground," Auron muttered under his breath, just loud enough for everyone to hear.  
Mercy continued as though her husband hadn't spoken, "and carried me off. I didn't know whether a loud argument would disturb the sending, so I didn't start protesting until we started down this path."  
"I am amazed that you did not hear her," Auron interjected.  
"But there's nothing wrong with me," Mercy protested now, as if continuing their argument. "I think I might have turned my ankle a little, but it's no big deal, I'm sure."  
"Can you put any weight on your foot?" Yuna inquired, her initial unfocused anxiety now transformed into a professional healer's concern.

"I'm sure I can, but Auron wouldn't let me get up and find out. He's been sure that something must be wrong, and he kept trying to find it." She cast her husband an exasperated look. "Somebody help me up," Auron stood and offered his hands to her, and she shook her head. "Somebody else help me up, and we'll see." As Auron continued to hover at her side, Tidus bent forward and offered her his assistance. She stood easily on her booted foot, and flashed Auron a triumphant grin, put her stockinged foot down and then suddenly lifted it again hurriedly and clutched at the nearest available supports, Auron's arm and Tidus' shoulder, as she let out a string of curses, half of them in the Zanarkand gutter slang that only she, Tidus and Auron understood. Tidus smiled at the shared memory, even as he winced a bit at the strength of her grip. Auron thought that she was carrying out the charade much too far, until he looked down and saw the drip of blood on the ground below her foot. His feigned concern turned very real, and slung his arm around her waist to support her.

"Does your ankle pain you that much?" Yuna asked in alarm.  
"Not anymore," Mercy replied through clenched teeth. "I just put my bare foot down on a rock. I think it's still in there. Shit!"  
"Sir Auron, please set Mercy down so I can heal her," Yuna requested.  
"Somebody check the damn ground first," Mercy grunted through clenched teeth.  
In the end, it was a relatively minor matter for Yuna to remove the small sliver of chipped stone and heal the wound on the bottom of Mercy's foot, and the party was able to resume their journey with relatively little further delay. Mercy found herself somewhat chagrined by the entire episode. _That will teach me_, she thought, _to fake a foot injury. These things have such a nasty way of coming true. I will definitely not try that trick again_.

They descended to the level below, the clanking and grinding of the machina that bore them downward seemed to be even more noticeably tortured in the gathering darkness. Mercy overheard Rikku talking with Tidus. "You know, it's a good thing Yunie's done with her business up there. I don't think this machina's gonna last much longer."  
"Me neither," Tidus replied. "It sounds like it's pretty much done for."  
Mentally, Mercy agreed with them. This lift wasn't good for too many more trips, not from the sound of it. She turned to Auron, who had also heard the conversation. "I am grateful that it has lasted long enough to see us back down. When we went up I was not certain that it would," he said in response to her unspoken question. "We will camp next to the platform, against the rock face there. It is an easily defensible position."

She looked into his face. The moon was coming up clear and just past full, and his expression was easy to read. She licked her lips, and felt his eye track the movement of her tongue, saw his jaw lock, heard his breath hitch and resume, just a little faster. She knew she was hanging on to self-control by her fingernails, and he clearly wasn't doing any better. She'd nearly died today, and then she'd tried to take his head off, and then they'd practically staged another fight. Near-death, aggression, adrenaline, and now all of it had turned to sexual energy. She knew they'd been ready to jump each other earlier, and that was before that last, staged fight. Now it was worse, or better, depending on perspective, except they wouldn't reach an inn until tomorrow night. Not soon enough. He'd said something earlier about camping away from the others, and she wondered if that had something to do with the importance of the defensibility of their campground. She sincerely hoped that would make them easier to spare for one night. He stared into her eyes, his gaze hot and hungry, and the mirror of her own.

As they disembarked from the machina at the base platform, he caught her wrist, and growled softly against her ear, "I must speak with Kimahri. Do not unpack with the others." Then he strode off to confer with the Ronso.

As she assisted the others with the setup of the camp and the preparation of the evening meal, Mercy found herself tracking the position of Kimahri and Auron as the two warriors considered the security of the campsite and examined the surrounding area. She tried to guess the direction their decision was taking, but it was impossible. _I cannot tell which of them appears more impassive, Auron or Kimahri_, she mused. _They seem to be brothers under the skin. But they keep walking back and forth over the same ground, studying the perimeter. I wonder if Auron is having second thoughts about this idea of camping away from the others. I certainly am. It seems at best self-indulgent, and at worst, foolhardy, or possibly dangerous. We are supposed to be responsible adults; we could try acting like it, for a change. But I keep forgetting, he has been the responsible adult on this journey for months, long before I arrived. Maybe he's getting tired of constantly playing the part, even if it is second nature to him_.

She waited expectantly as Auron broke away from the Ronso and headed in her direction. She walked towards him, her impatience getting the better of her. "Well?" she asked, as soon as she reached his side.

"We will take the first watch. Then we will leave and make our own camp," he said in a low voice. "There is a platform at the north edge of this plateau that descends into a narrow shaft. I suggest we see if that leads to anyplace…suitable." As he spoke, his gaze continued to roam over the campsite, still clearly concerned about the safety of their companions.

His obvious distraction made her ask him the question that she had been asking herself a few moments before. "Auron, is this really such a good idea? You're clearly having second thoughts, and, well, I am, too," she confessed. He looked down sharply, his eye now focused unwaveringly on her face. She threaded her fingers through his, and continued, "Not that I'm not interested in running off with you tonight, but…it does seem pretty irresponsible. We'll be fine, but are we compromising everyone else's safety, just to indulge ourselves?" Her voice ran down, and she realized that she was blushing furiously. The whole idea of whether or not it was safe to escape to have a tryst with her own husband somehow seemed very embarrassing, and very arousing at the same time.

Auron's voice seemed almost distant as he began his reply. "Most summoners have only one or two guardians when they reach this place on their pilgrimage. Yuna will still have five guardians after we take our leave tonight. And fiends are generally less powerful, the further they are from the ruins of Zanarkand. There are places that are exceptions, but this is not one of them." He took a breath, then spoke firmly, delivering judgment. "If the five guardians who will remain with Yuna tonight are not sufficient to keep her safe in this place, even after so many months of journeying, it is best to learn that now, while we still have time to prepare." Then his gaze turned warm, and his voice became huskier, "and besides, do you truly believe that either of us will get any sleep if we remain with the others?" He finally smiled then, a slow, sexy grin that told her exactly what he was thinking, that he would rather leave with her right now, a smile that reminded her of exactly what they could do if they were alone, and why she so much wished they didn't need to wait.

She smiled back, and teased, "Do you really think we'll get any sleep if we camp by ourselves?"  
He chuckled in agreement. "Possibly not. But this way, the time will pass much more…pleasantly."  
Rikku's voice broke in to their private world, shouting, "Hey guys, dinner's ready!" so they turned back to rejoin the others and get something to eat before they started their watch for the night.  
Their shift passed without incident, so when the time came to wake Kimahri and leave the immediate area, they both had fewer misgivings about separating from the others. Rather, Mercy was filled with feverish anticipation about the night ahead, and when she caught Auron's eye, she saw that he did, as well.

The descending platform was not very far from the perimeter they had patrolled while on watch, and their progress was not impeded by the presence of any fiends. The machina smoothly lowered them into an area that was a cross between a pocket-sized canyon and a grotto; in the dark it was impossible to tell whether it was natural or artificially constructed. But as they stepped off the platform, they could see that the only ways in or out of the place were the platform they had just used and a dark opening about six feet away from them, that led either to a tunnel or to a cave. Either way, they could not set up camp here without determining whether they could expect any 'company' to come from that seemingly empty doorway.

Mercy looked up at Auron, and he nodded to her in acknowledgment. She stooped and picked up some rocks from the ground, as he drew his sword and readied it over his shoulder. Then she pitched the rocks into the entrance, aiming in different directions in an attempt to disturb as many potential inhabitants as possible. And disturb them she did. By the time she had her swords in her hands, six Mi'ihen Fangs had boiled out of the darkness, searching for whatever had wakened them. The Fangs were no challenge to the two swordfighters, and fell quickly. Auron thought that the dire wolves in Zanarkand had been much more difficult opponents, since they excelled at fighting as a pack, and these fought only for themselves.

Adrenaline still rushing through her system after the brief but intense fight, Mercy looked over at Auron with an expression that was at once both appraising and challenging, and so steamy hot that he could have sworn he felt his own blood burning. He hoped like hell there were no more fiends, because he wasn't sure he could fight in his present condition.

Mercy was battling the impulse to just push him against a wall and climb his body, easily recalling more than a few occasions when she had done exactly that. The only thing stopping her was the thought that there still might be something else inside that opening, and once they got started, it would be really annoying to be interrupted. She looked him up and down again, and licked her lips. She was really tempted to risk it anyway. "Umm, I supposed we should check that out first," she finally managed to say, still staring.

"Yes," he answered back, slowly. One-word answers were all he had left.  
"After you," she said, as she motioned to him to precede her through the black entrance. "You've got the big sword," she finished suggestively.

Annoyance, frustration and desire flashed through him like heat lightning. He was incapable of a verbal reply, the only possible response he could imagine was to take her against the wall, and he, too, was concerned that there might still be enemies yet to face. He shook his head and muttered something unintelligible under his breath as he moved toward the low archway, but he silenced himself before he actually bent his head to pass inside.

On the other side of the empty doorway, he stepped out of the way of the entrance, and cautiously straightened. Even at his full height, neither his hair nor the tip of his sword resting on his shoulder touched the ceiling. As Mercy came to stand at his side, he tilted his head back, and observed that the roof seemed to be a few inches above his head. Since there were no fiends rushing to attack, he tested the distance above him with his hand, as he had learned ten years previously that his ability to easily judge distances and depths had been lost with his eye.

Mercy stepped forward, attempting to determine their surroundings in the dim light. "Auron, we're in a cave," her voice echoed slightly.  
"I had hoped as much," he replied calmly. "How large?"  
"Not very, I think. Eight by ten, at most." She took another step away, and stood nearer to the middle of the little cavern. "My eyes have adjusted. I don't see any other openings besides the one we came in. No little tunnels, so no little visitors. We're safe here for the night." She moved to the wall and let her pack from her back with a grateful sigh, and removed her swords from her belt.  
"Yes." The implications of that safety warmed the dark night. They were alone. Nothing could reach this valley, unless it crept past the camp above. And nothing could creep past Kimahri's guard. He moved to the side of the cave, propped his sword against the wall, and pulled his pack from his back. Then he turned to his wife, and pulled her into his arms.  
"Earlier this evening, I believe you said something about our being irresponsible?" he questioned her, his voice a rough caress as he placed light, teasing kisses around the edges of her mouth between each word.  
"I must have been out of my mind," she murmured, as she started to unbuckle his belt.  
"Then you no longer wish to be…responsible?" he continued to tease, as his palm rubbed over her breast.  
"Later, much later," she answered, tossing his belt to one side. He chuckled at her answer, and then grabbed her ass in both his hands, and lifted her up against him. As she wrapped her legs around his waist, he dropped to his knees in the sandy soil, bringing her down with him. It was a long, long time before either of them was even responsible enough to unstrap one of the bedrolls.

She thought at first that she was dreaming. One of the hot, sweet dreams that had sometimes come to her when she slept alone on the blasted plain of the ruined Zanarkand. She dreamed that Auron was there, his body a solid haven behind her, surrounding her with warmth, and love, and protection. His arms around her and his legs tangled with hers, his lips open against her shoulder, trailing kisses up her neck. But when his teeth closed around her earlobe in a sharp nip, she realized that she was not dreaming at all, that the sensations were very real, and that the crazy man was trying to wake her up.

She slitted her eyes open, found that it was still black night inside the cave, and shut them tight again. She snuggled back against her husband, and tried to drift back to sleep.  
Auron felt her body relax into sleep again, but he knew what she was doing, and he was having none of it. _Just because she needs less rest than before, does not mean she is any more willing to arise early than she ever was_. He smiled to himself at his musings. _Becoming unsent has not changed her basic nature. She still hates to get up before she is ready_. He shook her gently, and spoke softly against her ear. "We should get up now," he informed her quietly.  
"Why?" she finally muttered back, sleepy and disgruntled. He knew that to be her usual morning mood, if awakened too early, or after too little sleep, as was the case on this occasion.

"We should return to the main camp before the others awaken," he replied. He felt himself tense at the sound of his own words, and willed his body to relax again. _I pray she does not ask me why we must return so early. My reason…is shameful. But then, so were my actions last night. We should not have left the others. It was selfish…and self-indulgent. I am astonished that Kimahri agreed to let us go._ He felt his face burn with embarrassment at the thought of his discussion with the Ronso the evening before, and the transparency of his reasoning. _I was a fool, last night. But it is easy for me to see that now…now that I am certain she is all right. I spent enough of the night reassuring myself about that…thoroughly…in every possible way._ He smiled momentarily to himself at the memory, then frowned again. _But now, I would prefer to return to the others before everyone is aware that we left in the middle of the night, and stayed away for most of the night. Again. This time so far away that we could not hear if there were any trouble. I am uncertain if it is my pride or my dignity that I am attempting to protect, or simply that I am trying to spare myself the embarrassment. Or I may just be a bigger fool than I first thought, and they will all find out eventually in any case_.

He decided that she must be too sleepy to realize that his request did not make sense, because her next question seemed to come from a completely different direction than his thoughts. "Auron," she started, her voice still blurred with sleep, "how much sleep did we get? I still feel awfully tired."  
"About three hours," he answered, as he pressed a kiss into her hair.  
She felt his mouth turn up into a grin, and heard something suspiciously like lazy self-satisfaction creep into his voice. She thought he sounded much too pleased with himself, and she wondered why, especially at this unholy hour of the morning, and after his considerable tension a few minutes before. She scooted around to finally face him, and found him grinning, for no reason that she could determine, at least at first. But then the fog cleared her brain, and she finally asked, "That last time wasn't a dream, was it?"  
His grin grew broader. "I never said the three hours sleep were continuous." It seemed like answer enough.

She remembered completely, now. They had begun just as they had in her dreams, just as he had this morning, his body folded completely around hers from behind, except that during the night, his mouth really had been open against her skin, kissing, licking, sucking at her neck, her shoulders, turning her head so that he could fill her mouth with his tongue, and his hands had been everywhere, cradling her breasts, rolling and plucking her nipples, skating down her belly and between her legs, stroking her intimately. She had been relatively passive, believing that it was just a beautiful dream, and he had let her continue to dream, clearly confident that her body would respond to him, whether she was fully awake or not. And he had been right. She remembered writhing against him, ready and eager for him to fill her, and he had gently moved her legs apart and thrust into her from behind, his long fingers still caressing her in front, and the explosion in her body that seemed to suck her dreams down into sweet, sticky darkness when he pushed her over the edge. The last thing she remembered was his breath, shallow and fast against her neck, and the slap of his skin as he pumped into her and cried out her name.

He watched her as she remembered. Saw her eyes sweep over him as she recalled every detail of their middle of the night lovemaking. He remembered it as well. The memory, combined with her naked form lying beside him, aroused him fully. She looked down at the evidence that was pressed into her hip, and then looked up again into his face, a mischievous smile on her lips.

"Are you sure you want to get out of bed right now?" she teased him, as she reached down and wrapped her hand around his shaft. Then she stroked him with her thumb, and he bit his lip to suppress a groan. "Are you really, really sure?" she asked again, but in spite of the sexual torment she was inflicting on him, he heard something serious in her voice.

He stared back into her eyes, trying to focus his scattered wits. He realized that she knew exactly why he wanted to return so early…and that this was her answer. And possibly a reminder of what he would not be getting for quite a while if he decided he would rather get out of bed, after all. And that he was a fool. He had made his own bed, last night when he decided to leave the camp. He might as well lie back and enjoy it. He placed his own hand over hers, pressing her fingers tighter around him. Then he lifted his hand to the back of her head, tilting it so that he could kiss her deeply. "I am certain that I do not want to leave this bed right now," he finally rasped, just before his mouth covered hers again.

Some time later, her limbs were filled with a pleasant lethargy, and she was trying desperately not to fall asleep. She thought about the morning, and the night before, and the night before that, and the one before that, and then she started to giggle. "What is so funny?" her husband asked hazily.  
"The next time Tidus calls you 'old man', I will probably fall down laughing," she replied. He could feel her shaking with amusement, as she lay curled against his side, her head resting in the hollow of his shoulder.  
He was silent for a moment, then he suddenly understood the innuendo, and chuckled softly. "Please, do not. I beg you." His chest was still rumbling with pleased laughter as he continued, "My dignity would not survive the explanation."  
"And do you care so much about your dignity?" she inquired, a serious note entering her voice.  
"Not as much as I once did," he replied, soft but now grave. Then his tone lightened as he continued, "Let us say, then, that this particular explanation would make me blush with embarrassment."  
She rolled up on one elbow, and looked down into his face. "Love, that particular explanation would make everyone blush with embarrassment." She thought a minute. "Except maybe Kimahri." Then she turned her head and glanced at the mouth of the cave. "Hey, I think there's getting to be a glimmer of light, or maybe less dark, outside. I think now it really is time to get a move on."  
He sat up, and saw for himself. "You are correct. It is time to go."

This time, they really did get out of bed and pack up their small camp. It did not take them long to dress and prepare to return to their companions. As they stood on the lifting platform while it ascended to the level of the main camp, Mercy finally asked her husband a question that had been bothering her since the day before. "Auron, explain Operation Mi'ihen to me, would you?"  
His voice was distant, and somber, as he began, "The Crusaders and the Al Bhed hoped that they could destroy Sin with machina, but it was a vain hope…"  
She broke in impatiently, saying, "Auron, I didn't mean the participants. Why they tried is obvious. Horribly sad, but totally understandable." She paused, hesitating as they stepped off the platform onto firm ground, then continued walking toward the main camp as she went on talking. "I meant their leaders, Seymour…and Kinoc. Why did they do it? They were maesters, they must have known it wouldn't work."

Auron spoke slowly, considering his words carefully. "Seymour did not become a maester until just before the operation took place." He paused, then finally said, "But Kinoc…I…do not know."  
"Kinoc's position, you told me that he was the leader of the Crusaders, right?"  
"Yes," he answered, trying to guess where she was leading.  
"This operation, it was a big thing, wasn't it?" He nodded. "It must have taken a lot of planning, then. As the leader, Kinoc must have been involved in that." She looked at Auron for confirmation, and he nodded again. "I wonder why he did it, knowing all along that he was lying, planning for something that couldn't possibly succeed." Auron looked stricken, he hadn't quite considered his former friend's participation in the logistics of the operation in that light. "I wonder," she mused quietly, "if he planned it from the beginning, or if it was some Crusader's bright idea that had caught on somehow, and by the time he heard about it, he had to get out front and lead it, otherwise he would have felt like he had 'lost face' from not being in charge of it?"

"I still…do not know," Auron repeated, slightly dazed at the direction his wife's thoughts had taken.  
"Or perhaps the Crusaders were already in too deep, and there was just no way he could get them out of it without revealing the maesters' secret knowledge, so he had to let them stay in," she speculated. "But what was Seymour's part in all this?" she probed again.  
"I believe that he was still trying to make a name for himself when it began," her husband said, more sure of himself on this subject. "He was not yet a maester, and wished to have his name attached to the venture, just in case it succeeded, but in such a way that he could disavow it if it failed." His tone was sarcastic as he continued, "And I think he was Kinoc's rival, and wished to keep an eye on him, as well."

Recalling the entirety of the one time he had met with his old friend when they had not been trying to kill one another, Auron stopped walking, and stared sightlessly up at the sky.  
"Auron, what's the matter?" Mercy asked, concern clear in her voice, as she laid her hand on his arm.  
"I was thinking of Kinoc," he answered distantly. "When I saw him again…he had changed so much in ten years. I could not believe that my second-in-command was buried somewhere inside that fat little priest. But when he asked me if I had seen Zanarkand…his voice was that of the man I once knew." He paused, swallowed hard, then said, "I don't know."  
"What don't you know?" she asked quietly, puzzled.  
He stared into the distant past. "I don't know if I could have saved him, if I had stayed," he answered, in a flat monotone.  
"You are determined to blame yourself for something this morning, aren't you?" she replied hotly. Then she wrapped her arms around herself and kept her mouth clamped shut while her thoughts buzzed, hurt and angry. _Damn you, Auron! If you'd stayed here, we'd never have met, you fool! What are you thinking? Are you thinking? Sometimes, Auron, your single-minded focus makes me want to go after you with my swords! And Lulu thinks Wakka isn't too bright…little does she know_. She finally calmed down enough to think more rationally, and realized what must be behind his thoughts of saving Kinoc. _He hasn't let go, because he never really let himself grieve, in spite of what he said in Macalania that afternoon. He no good at letting go_.

Her one outburst left him with the absolute certainty that she had understood exactly why he had originally wanted to return to the others so early this morning, but he wasn't able to follow the swift current of her thoughts now. He was only aware that he had said something to hurt her, however unintentionally. But when she finally spoke, she returned to his comment about Kinoc, not to her own hurt. "Auron, I never asked before, but tell me now. I know you left because you refused to marry the priest's daughter. But why did you refuse?" She started talking more rapidly than usual, firing all the questions at him at once, still a little afraid of the answers, and scared that if she paused for breath, she'd never finish. "You told me once that you turned her father down, but you never said why, and I never asked. Now I'm asking. Was she…pretty? Did you even know? Had you ever even met?"

He met her eyes, then, knowing that he needed to answer her questions with his attention fully focused on her, and not on the past. But it took him a few seconds to begin, to search his memories for an image that had faded long ago, because it had mattered little to him at the time. "Yes, I had met her a few times. Her father was a priest of the temple, after all. She was…pretty enough, I suppose, but I do not remember her very well." Mercy stared at him in complete surprise at that remark. She had always thought that the girl's looks would have been his primary consideration. He hastened to continue his explanation. "She had been raised to…serve her father's ambitions above all else. He wished to become a maester; I believe to someday challenge or more likely succeed Mika as Grand Maester." Mercy smiled crookedly at that last comment. "I see the irony in that now, but he certainly did not, then," Auron replied in answer to her unspoken but obvious thoughts about whether Mika would ever have retired. Then he went on with his story. "Ten years ago, I was to become a captain of the warrior-monks. I had no greater ambitions, but many believed that I would rise higher. This priest certainly did. He intended for me to marry his daughter, and use me and whatever influence I might have among my brethren to further his ambitions. I saw him as corrupt, more a politician than a priest. I refused." His voice turned bitter. "I did not know that the temple was already more corrupt than he could ever possibly have been."

She thought for a moment, then said softly, "So, the only way you could have stayed, would have been to have accepted a corrupt bargain? If you had been willing to do something that you would have thought of as selling your soul to keep your place, you could have stuck around?" He was jolted out of his self-recriminations by the quiet force of her argument. "Auron, under those circumstances, you couldn't even have saved yourself," she finished simply.  
He nodded, silent acknowledgement that she was correct. Then she wrapped her arms around him, and his eyes squeezed shut, and he let her hold him, and he let himself mourn for his old friend, the man he had lost ten years ago, when he had chosen his path.

When he finally loosened the tight lock of his arms around her, he only shifted his hands to cup her shoulders, and looked down into her eyes. "We should go," he said earnestly, but he did not make any move to do so.  
"Yes, we should," she agreed, quietly, waiting patiently for him to let out whatever was still on his mind.  
"Thank you," he finally whispered softly, as he brushed her lips with his own.  
She brought her hand up to touch his cheek, rubbed her thumb over the corner of his mouth, drawing it up into a half-smile. "You're welcome." She smiled up at him. "Anytime you need a good, swift kick, I'm there." But in spite of her words, her tone was soft and loving.  
His half-smile turned into a true one. "We really should go. Someone should be preparing breakfast by now."  
She looked over his shoulder at the dawn-filled sky. "I sure hope so," she said brightly. "Let's go." This time, he released her, and they set out towards the others, and that hoped for breakfast.

Tidus was the first one to spot them, as the others were busy cleaning up from the night before or preparing breakfast. But his boisterous greeting to Auron of "Hey, old man, what have you been up to all night?" made everyone glance up at the returning guardians. Yuna and Rikku both blushed as they resumed their morning tasks, and Wakka stumbled awkwardly, trying not to think at all for several seconds. Auron cast what he hoped was a quelling glare at the impudent young man, then turned his gaze to his wife. Mercy's eyes were nearly dancing in amusement, and he could see that she was biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing out loud. He was forced to compress his own lips in a thin line to prevent himself from actually doing so. The tiny sputter he heard escape her mouth nearly undid him.

But Lulu forced all thought of laughter from both of their minds. Her old anger rose and she burst out, "How dare you sneak away for the entire night? And you call youself guardians? What if we had been attacked during the night? What if something had happened to Yuna? Your duty is to protect your summoner, not…"

Kimahri broke in, his bass voice overriding all other sounds, "Yuna have five guardians during night. Sir Auron and Kimahri decide to test guardians. Must know if five guardians enough to protect Yuna." Kimahri stared down each member of the party. "Guardians must know that any can protect Yuna. Yuna must face Sin. Yuna must win. But all guardians may not face Sin, may not be there when Yuna win." Then the Ronso glanced quickly at Auron and Mercy, and Auron realized that Kimahri had agreed the night before, not because of any argument that he had made, but because of the one that he had not, that he and Mercy might have been sent the day before, by chance or by his following her. Kimahri continued, "But test was not good. No fiends last night. Must try test again."

Lulu had stared with her eyes blazing with righteous indignation during the Ronso's entire short speech, but kept her mouth firmly shut. Even in the worst of her anger, she knew better than to challenge Kimahri. But as soon as Auron strode away with Kimahri to discuss their march for the day, and Mercy was alone and searching for breakfast, Lulu grabbed the older woman by the arm and pulled her aside. Being forced to suppress her rage in the face of Kimahri's announcement made it burn that much hotter as she confronted the swordswoman. Mercy stared down at Lulu's hand on her arm, and the mage withdrew it, still having enough sense not to risk a physical confrontation, but Lulu's words hissed through her teeth as she began speaking angrily. "I was actually beginning to think better of you," the mage began. "That was incredibly selfish, not to mention thoughtless, leaving for the entire night. What if we had been attacked? What if something had happened to Yuna? You are supposed to be guardians. Why couldn't you have waited until we reach an inn tonight?" Lulu finally wound down, temporarily out of breath.

Mercy wasn't quite sure what to say. She was horribly tempted to just shock the poor woman, and answer that they really couldn't have waited another minute, let alone another night, and then watched her turn purple. But she realized she felt a little sorry for her. The situation had clearly gotten way out of Lulu's control, and she just didn't know how to handle it. So, instead of being rude, she tried to answer nicely, by saying, "Lulu, you heard Kimahri. It really was a good test. Except for the fiends not showing up, I mean. I admit, I suspect that Auron's arguments for doing it were probably specious at best, if not downright lame, but the idea was actually valid. Kimahri wouldn't have agreed to it otherwise, and you know it." Mercy smiled at the mage then, and waited for her to respond.

Lulu continued her attack, "You still should not have gone. It was irresponsible, and self-indulgent. Don't either of you have any self-control?" she finally wailed.  
"Weren't there times when you and…Chappu…didn't have any self-control?" Mercy shot back.  
Unprepared for this question, Lulu actually started to answer. "Yes, there were times…but that was different. We were…young." She stopped, stricken by what she had just revealed, and by the implied insult she had just levied.  
Mercy replied in an amused tone. "And because we are not young, you think it must be different for us, is that it?" Mercy laughed gently. "Lulu, with the right person, the fire never burns out. Knowing how good it will be makes the fire burn brighter, and hotter," she paused. "If you are lucky. Very, very lucky."  
"But control," Lulu began, then paused. "What about self-control, and self-mastery, and staying in control and being in control and keeping control? I am a black mage. An integral part of casting elemental spells is gaining and maintaining control, of oneself, and of the elements that one wishes to command. But your actions last night in leaving, exhibited no self-control. I do not understand this."  
"Ah, now we come to the heart of the matter," Mercy sighed. "You make me glad I'm a fighter, and not a mage. When you fight, it's much simpler. There are times when you fight, just like when you love, that you have to know when let go, when you have to give in to the passion, in order to win. If you try to control everything, if you never give in to the fire, never let your instincts take over, you always lose."  
"Is that your excuse, then?" the mage asked disparagingly. "You gave in because you are fighters? That is nonsense. You must take me for a fool." Lulu spat out, angry and disappointed with the other woman.

"No, I put that badly. Please try to understand," Mercy said, sighing wearily as she tried to reach out and lay a hand on the other woman's arm. But Lulu flinched away with a sneer, and the swordswoman let her arm drop to her side. "Lulu, we left last night because…Kimahri agreed that…we were not needed here. And," Mercy paused then, and locked her eyes with the mage's, "we needed each other. Yes, we let go of our duty for one night. The reason is one I thought I would not have to explain to you, of all people. I would have thought you learned it the day Chappu died." Lulu gasped in astonishment, unable to understand why this woman kept talking about Chappu. The mage stared back, and eventually shook her head in confusion. "Lulu, don't you understand? We had a chance for a few brief hours of joy, and we grabbed them and we'll have no regrets later about the chance we missed. Life is too damned short to ever do anything else."

In a desperate, haunted whisper, Lulu choked out two words, asking a question, and pleading for confirmation. "No regrets?"  
"One, always," Mercy answered back, swift and sure. "I wish we'd had more time."

End Chapter Thirty-Eight

Author's note: Apologies are due because of the long time between updates. My life has been in an uproar since the first of the year, and it has seriously cut in to my writing time, and I chose to (hopefully) maintain the quality of the story, rather than just pump out quick but uninspired chapters. For those who are interested, since January, I have, planned my wedding, gotten married, gone on my honeymoon, looked for a new job, actually gotten a new job, and am now in the process of helping to pack up our household so that my husband and I can move ourselves and our 4 cats from Anchorage Alaska to Tallahassee Florida over Memorial Day weekend, since that is where my new job is. I do intend to finish this story, and I hope to get back to a more reasonable writing schedule as soon as we find a place to live and life gets a bit more settled. Thanks for your patience! I sincerely hope you think this new chapter was worth the wait.


End file.
